Alternate Fates
by Weiila
Summary: A spinoff from Gogo's Secret and Worshippers. Quite a bit of ingame AU. Chapter 36, A blunter escape plan was seldom seen, but what to do when Kefka is your only ally? Gestahl may have something to say about it, though.
1. A twist of fate

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything – not even the name "Kerr", which is my sister's invention (funny fact is, that was what she named poor, poor Setzer when I let her name all the characters in FF6. Oi). All the characters belong to the wonderful people of Square who work day and night to supply us with excellent ways to kill off time. The bits of lyrics I have quoted belong to their writers and musicians, which I quote because I very much enjoy their work and bits of it suits the various settings of the story. 

Starting notes:

This is an AU story, on the premise of my good ol' Gogo theory from Gogo's secret II and Worshippers of Insanity with this added question:

What if emperor Gestahl had tried to do something about Kefka's madness on the floating continent?

Skip past all the action taking place like it _should_, we're going straight to where things start diverting from the game's plot. Behold the famous floating continent scene, where Kefka is supposed to snap. 

The beginning of the story is copied directly from "Moment with Celes" (which I never posted on ff.net because I thought it wasn't that much to show), for the sensible reason that this insane story is based on that older story and its fellows in the trilogy (which on this site only is a two part series).

Dedicated to StarStorm and Pokefreak, because I believe you and me make Kefka/Kerr's greatest fans. 

And thank you Zeppelin for the handy walkthrough of said game. I needed some enemy names quite a few times, and your creation was very helpful.

Alternate fates

Kefka held forth a sword. 

"Go on, Celes," he smirked, "kill your friends and you'll be forgiven." 

Silently she took the weapon and then looked at Terra and Locke. The woman with green hair was almost unconscious, lying with her face down. But Locke was sitting on his knees, watching Celes. Neither him nor Terra could move, bound with Kefka's magic.

Locke's eyes were calm, trustful. Even though Celes held a weapon and had received such an order, or suggestion, he wasn't afraid that she'd harm him. 

She recalled that awful moment in the esper facility, when Kefka had accused her for not being a traitor for real. There had been doubt in Locke's eyes then, even if it was very small and staggering. It had hurt her like a dagger. 

She had unleashed all the power she had to protect that man. To show him that she never would lie to him.

When she had awoken, in a prison cell, she had been told that her "friends" had escaped like dogs without looking back. Even though she had been freed later on by Cid, and she really knew that it wasn't true what they said... the thought had been nagging her. 

As she was sent to Thamasa with the Returners, she hadn't been able to bear facing Locke when he tried to talk to her. She had felt abandoned, and ashamed. Ashamed that she had doubted him. But later when she tried to tell him that she was sorry for running off, it was he who had been angry. He had just walked away. Almost killing her. 

Leo had been worried about her when they sought the espers together with some soldiers. He had noted that something had been weighing heavily on her shoulders. But she hadn't explained to him that she was so sorry about Locke that she could scream. 

Not only because it had gone all wrong, she wanted to yell at him that Rachel was gone forever. His way of holding on to her memory made Celes feel bitter straight through. 

Locke! 

A mountain had left her as he smiled at her in Thamasa and told her to not say another word about what had gone wrong. He wasn't angry... 

If only Kefka hadn't... Gestahl hadn't... 

Those _damn_ _fools_!

He trusted her this time. He wouldn't doubt ever again. 

Why did it hurt, then? 

"Violence only gives birth to hate..." she bitterly muttered, "I wish I was never... born..."

Then she spun around and raised the sword at Kefka. But with her sight blurred with tears, she only hit his arm slightly.

He was taken completely off guard, however. And his scream of pain pierced the thin air.

Celes dropped the sword; her fingers felt cold and numb as she watched the hated man stumble backwards, pressing his hand against the wound.

Trembling with rage Kefka removed his grip and held up the stained hand, staring at the thick red liquid running down his wrist.

"B-blood, on me?!" he stuttered, shaking his head, seeming almost confused.

But the confusion crashed away as his eyes slowly turned to Celes and the bloodied weapon lying by her feet.

'Oh God, he… he…' ran through the blond warrior's head, 'he is… he _is_ insane!'

Of course she had known it, Kefka had always been so… but she had thought of him more of extremely eccentric and cruel, not… not _truly_ insane.

But what flamed in Kefka's eyes was nothing but madness, burning with hate for every living thing. An animal growl rose deep within his throat and he crouched, the screech coming from his lips turning more and more high pitched until it was impossible to hear the single looping word. 

"I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate… _HATE YOU_!!"

And his good arm violently swept at the three Returners.

Celes was the only one of them who was able to scream as they were thrown backwards, towards the edge of the platform. She was slipping, trying to get a hold of something, _anything_ at all…

**Click!**

"Ouff!"

She found herself on her knees on the creepily warm, pulsating ground. And an arm securely around her waist, that had saved her from crashing. It was completely covered in slick black cloth, the hand inside a dark glove.

"I've got you…" a harsh, slightly muffled hiss concluded, "don't know if it'll help though."

"Shadow…?" Celes whispered with a broken voice.

He didn't reply. With the movements of an attacking snake he sent a tack star through the air, straight towards the snarling madman.

One short hiss, and Kefka threw up his hand. 

The star stopped dead in the air. The ground twitched when one of the sharp edges buried deep within it; the whole continent was strangely alive…

But Celes had no nerve to care about what she was slumping on, staring at Kefka in horror. He was crouching, swaying lightly. But his eyes were glowing with cold hatred and his lips were drawn back in a mad, cruel grin.

"Now then…" he screeched, raising his hand.

Shadow's grip of Celes tightened as he hesitated, realizing that he had moved too quickly and made a terrible mistake. Interceptor growled somewhere behind. The magitek knight hardly felt the grip or heard the dog. Locke and Terra laid on the ground, trying to move but even though they seemed to be free of the magic they wouldn't have time to get out of the way. 

'_No_! _LOCKE_!!'

She tried to scream but she couldn't get a single sound out of her dry throat.

**Click!**

"Calm down, Kefka," emperor Gestahl sighed, more irritated than anything else.

But that command wasn't the wisest, judging from what happened. The grin disappeared from Kefka's face, but the calculating smirk that replaced it was even worse. He began to straighten up, Gestahl didn't realize what monster he had released…

The emperor turned to the statues and put his hand on the foundation of the closest one, muttering something in a low voice while he frowned.

**Click!**

"Augh!" 

Kefka swayed with a surprised shout as a swarm of healing stars slammed into him and covered him in a sharp blue light. As it faltered he straightened out his back properly, shaking his head and blinking. 

His eyes…?

"Feeling better?" Gestahl grunted, irritated.

"Urgh…" Kefka muttered and slowly nodded, rubbing his forehead.

"We agreed on not killing them right away, didn't we?" the emperor added with a cruel smirk.

"Yes, of course."

Kefka looked up. The complete madness was gone, for better or worse…

He smirked at the Returners and looked over his shoulder, waving his pointing finger.

"I am sorry for that outburst, my dear sire," he said, "I almost shortened our fun!"

"You have been working too hard lately, haven't you?" Gestahl said, suddenly frowning again.

Kefka grimaced.

"Yes, I suppose… but why are we talking about my health?!"

He turned around again, his eyes hungrily running over Locke and Terra before stopping on Celes and Shadow. 

"What you did wasn't very nice, my lady…" he hissed, his fingers moving in silent chanting.

"Shadow, let go."

Celes pushed the ninja's frozen arm away from her and slowly stood up. Her face was as pale as a blanket.

"Now what?" Kefka purred, watching her with thin eyes, "are you challenging me?"

"I'm so sorry, lord Kefka…" Celes said, taking a step away from the stunned Shadow while lowering her head.

"Now that just gives me the creeps…"

"Look out, you fool!" Gestahl shouted, but it was too late.

With a bitter smirk Celes threw out her arms, unleashing all her powers in one pure wave.

"You fall for the same trick again, Kefka!" she screeched as she was thrown backwards by her own magic strength.

She heard them all scream, in rage, shock, horror… they were now thrown off the continent, falling to their deaths. Locke's scream… oh, Locke…

'I'm not… going to cry…' she thought as the wind clawed at her falling body.

Would she be able to see Locke and everyone else in heaven? Or was she condemned for this crime, sacrificing herself and her friends in a desperate attempt to protect the world from two madmen? That, and all her other crimes… too weak to stop Kefka and Gestahl…

Her eyes were closed. She didn't want to see what was happening, didn't want to see the accuse in her friends' faces, neither the rage of her enemies.

She could only pray that her desperate attempt hadn't brought the statues imbalance, that was said to lead to a catastrophe. But, she had also read that the goddesses were neutral to all magic in their petrified state. That was her only hope, otherwise she was surely damned for all times.

'Forgive me.'

Tears fell after her as she was heavier than them.

"Ouff?!" 

She squealed at the sudden lack of existence. No wind, no feeling of falling… but… she could still hear the others scream, far, far away. So she couldn't have crashed and died already, not if they were still limblessly dashing towards their deaths.

Slowly she opened her eyes.

"_Ceeeleees_!!" 

As he helplessly fell, her was all that Locke could think of. The wind forced tears to his eyes, making it impossible to see anything clear. But that lump there seemed to have green hair and there was two black ones… Shadow and that monster dog of his. But Celes? Where was she?

What a thing to do… throwing herself and everyone else off the continent. But… he understood why she had done it. That would at least prevent Gestahl and Kefka's tyranny. 

"It's okay… Celes…" 

His throat was soar after the screaming, his mouth filled with the disgusting taste of blood. So he could only whisper to the roaring winds.

If she hadn't done so, who knew what horror Kefka would have unleashed upon them once he had them in a secure grip.

"Bastards…"

Celes…

Where was she? He didn't want her to face death alone, she had always been lonely. Just a pawn of the empire. 

And now?

'Didn't we use her as well?' Locke bitterly thought.

No, she had chosen to fight. Probably been prepared for that it could end like this. It was up to Edgar, Sabin, Setzer, Banon and all the others that were left to take care of the rest.

'So sorry…'

Locke suddenly blinked.

Big shadow?

"Ouff!"

"Agh!"

"Ow!"

And a whimper from Interceptor.

"Gotcha!" Setzer's voice huskily, grimly cheered.

Cyan's strong, wiry hands grabbed the dizzy treasure hunter's shoulders and helped him sit up.

"Art thee still with us?" the warrior grimly asked.

"I… I…" 

Locke looked around, realizing panic growing for every second. Sabin was giving Terra support returning to the real world, Relm was the only one who dared touch Shadow. The ninja was too wobbly after the crash to even protest at the small but firm hands on his arms. Whimpering like a dog Gau rubbed his hands over Interceptor's back while the dog shook his head to regain orientation.

But?!

"Celes?!" Locke croaked, wildly looking around.

Everything and everyone froze, scanning the area.

No blond warrior with a white cloak anywhere on the deck.

"_NO_!!" Setzer screamed, his knees and palms hitting the deck, "I can't have missed her! I can't!"

"Uwaooo!!" Gau suddenly screeched through the downcrashing despair, "look out!"

The wild boy's howling and an intense light was the last thing that Locke remembered.


	2. New world order

Chapter 2, Falling and rising hope

"Mhh… ngsst…" 

 "Terra? Terra!"

 "Ungh… wh… what? Relm?"

    The half esper blinked to get rid of the mist hanging before her eyes, after a few seconds seeing through it. Straight up at a young face that carried tears of relief.

 "We thought you were a goner, Terra!" the girl sobbed, smiling widely and hugging the dizzy woman.

 "Where, what…?" Terra grunted as she weakly hugged Relm back.

 "You've been unconscious for two months, I can't believe you're still alive!"

 "What?!"

    The green-haired female stared up at the dark roof, realizing that she wasn't outside, neither in a house. It was a cave.

 "Where is this? What has happened, Relm?!" she harshly asked.

    Relm straightened up, grimacing in pure agony. Not until now Terra saw that the girl's clothes were dirty and had been repaired several times with pieces of various cloth. She looked like she had been on the run for weeks.

 "It was… the floating continent," Relm said in an unsteady voice, "and they're all gone, we don't know how many survived… it's horrible, Terra!"

    Slowly the woman managed to sit up, her face loosing all blood as she listened to the stuttering child. Never had Relm shown the tiniest grain of weakness such as grief, the older female hardly knew if she wanted to know the whole story now. But she knew she had to.

 "Tell me everything," she forced past her lips.

    Relm nodded, angrily drying her tears. She took in a deep breath.

 "Okay, here goes…"

    She hiccupped one last time before starting to talk. For each word Terra's world faded more and more until she was sure she was about to faint.

 "After Setzer saved you guys from falling, we were hit by a magical beam from the statues, it was Gestahl's doing for sure. And we don't know what happened to anyone else, there's just us two, Interceptor, dad and grandpa here. We're in the mountains by Thamasa, dad, grandpa and Locke managed to take us here while both you and me were unconscious… we have to hide here, because…"

    The young artist bit her lower lip.

 "Celes didn't manage to knock Gestahl and Kefka off the continent, the statues' power probably protected them. And… with the power of the goddesses Gestahl is ruling the world now."

    Terra's head and back hit whatever she had been resting on. Felt like spruce twigs below a blanket. But she didn't care about that. She stared at the roof with wide eyes, her soul twitching as she tried to comprehend the impossible, complete terror.

 "Oh God…" she hoarsely whispered.

 "Not to mention that our heads are worth a fortune each," a man's voice bitterly said. 

    Terra looked up and frowned. She recalled the voice from somewhere, but thought that it sounded more distinct than it really should. And she couldn't recall ever meeting the blond man who stepped into the weak circle of candlelight.

    But the way he moved, somehow like a snake… and Interceptor's impressive body frame lurched after him. 

    Terra blinked as her brain clicked.

 "Shadow?" she said in a hoarse voice.

    He nodded.

 "Well, I used to be. Shadow isn't in me any longer, now I'm just Clyde."

    With a sigh he rubbed his neck and sat down on the ground.

 "Good to have you back, Terra, we needed that."

 "But… what?" the green-haired woman said, shaking her head in confusion.

    Everything was spinning, she couldn't take in what it was that had happened… no, it just had to be an awful dream… it felt as if she was about to throw up… there was so much horror that her soul screamed…

 '_Terra_!'

    The call in her head almost caused her too jump, but it also smashed two big, strong hands into her violently whirling mind and tore up a bubble for her to breathe in.

 'Father?' she whispered with relief.

 'Try to calm down, I'm here…' his deep, warmly growling voice soothingly spoke into her shocked soul, 'we'll think of something to mend all this, I'm sure. Hush, calm down…'

    The only thing Relm and Clyde noted was that Terra's pale face regained a little color and she slowly took in a deep breath.

 "Are you alright?" Clyde asked with a frown.

 "Yeah… is my father still here?" the half-esper wondered, rubbing her forehead.

 "He's right there," Relm said and pointed past the green-haired woman's head.

    As Terra looked around she saw a green, transparent stone lying on the ground just behind the point were her head had been resting. She reached backwards and took the magicite as she sat up again, watching the slowly dancing flame within. 

 'Thank all the gods…' she muttered to the spirit in the stone and her head.

 'Yes,' Maduin grimly said, 'it was a true blessing that you still carried me during the attack, otherwise I might not have been able to help you.'

    Terra paled again as the meaning of his words hit her. She looked up at the two humans and the dog.

 "How many of the espers did we…"

    Her voice trailed off as Clyde bitterly shook his head.

 "You had Maduin," he said, "I was still learning from Ifrit when we were on the floating continent and Locke had Kirin. Otherwise it was just luck that Strago happened to be taking care of Siren and Relm Unicorn. We don't know what happened to the others since we don't know what happened to the rest of our friends…"

 "Oh good gods…"

    Terra covered her eyes with one hand for a moment, hanging onto her father's soothing voice like a drowning sailor holding a broken plank. Finally she let the hand fall and looked at her present friends again.

 "Where's Locke and Strago?" she asked.

    Clyde and Relm exchanged pained expressions that caused Terra's stomach to turn into a hard knot again.

 "Grandpa's just outside," Relm slowly said, "he was going to keep guard for a while…"

    Her voice trailed off and her gaze fell to the ground as her hands balled into fists.

 "But Locke isn't here anymore," Clyde said in an emotionless voice.

 "Is he…?!" Terra screeched, turning stiff as a statue.

    The man and girl hurriedly shook their heads.

 "No, no," Clyde hurriedly said, "he's not dead, not that we know of. But he's not here anymore, he left about three weeks ago."

 "But… why?" the half-esper whispered.

    Clyde heavily sighed.

 "You better lay back," he grimly said.

    Slowly Terra obeyed, blood leaving her face again. What…

 "Setzer didn't manage to save Celes, as you might remember," the ex-assassin sadly said, "and we survived the magic attack that destroyed the airship only because he had time to dive closer to the ground before we were hit and thrown away from each other. However it's impossible that Celes could have survived…"

    He fell silent and bitterly shook his head before continuing.

 "As we fled here it was clear that Locke had taken one of the worst psychic hits possible, you wouldn't have recognized him… he was so depressed we hardly knew if he was going to survive. I guess loosing both Rachel and Celes were just about what he could handle. But he kept up. Then…"

    Clyde took in a deep breath and looked straight at Terra, his eyes flaring with bitterness.

 "When we passed by Thamasa briefly before coming here, we learned that Gestahl had destroyed Kohlingen completely to make an example. So, Rachel is forever lost as well."

 "Oh gods…"

 "Yes. For two days Locke didn't speak, then he asked me to give him my mask."

 "Your…?"

    Terra's eyes widened in horror as the realization smashed down.

 "Kefka goes mad," Relm bitterly said, "Locke goes Shadow…"

 "No…" Terra groaned, covering her eyes with her hand.

 "He put on my mask and left, taking my place as Shadow," the blond man's voice said from faraway.

 "Oh no, no, no…" 

    Terra desperately rubbed her face with both hands, for her inner eye with terror seeing Locke's familiar, warmly smiling face caught behind the black veil.

 'Shh…' Maduin sadly whispered, at the same time as Relm reached out and put a hand on Terra's shoulder.

 "We know it's hard, but we can't give up," the girl said with a blessed edge of anger in her voice, "even if we're the last ones that are left… we have to do something!"

 "Yeah…" 

    Terra removed her hands from her face and sat up again. She blinked as Clyde draped an arm around Relm's thin shoulders and drew her closer, defensively. 

 "Well said, m'girl," the ex-assassin said with a grim smile.

    And finally the green-haired woman's mind caught up with what she had heard earlier.

 "Did you say… dad?" she blankly asked Relm, who nodded accompanied by the man beside her.

 "I've been a swine," Clyde bluntly said.

 "Now stop saying that, it's the hundredth time…" Strago's gruffly voice grumbled.

    Terra looked up and managed half a weak smile as the old man walked into the pool of light as well. He returned the attempt and sat down on the other side of Relm, not in much a better shape than the rest. 

 "Good to have you back, Terra," he said, "it doesn't exactly hurt to have another friend around."

 "Yes, but all the others…" the young woman said in a tight, low voice.

    Edgar, Sabin, Mog, Gau, Cyan… everyone… gone?

    If her father hadn't been mumbling soothingly to her mind she might have burst into tears of despairing rage.

 "Yes, it's sad," Strago said in a voice rough with held back emotions, "but we have to look ahead. There must be something we still can do."

 "You know, sometimes you aren't a complete goof after all," Relm said with a vague smirk.

    Strago grinned at her and then reached for his belt where among smaller pouches a fairly bigger sack hung.

 "Here, you better eat something."

    And with that he handed the sack to Terra. She opened it and took out a piece of bread, slightly dry and crumbling in her grip. But even as she touched it hunger welled up in her empty stomach and she chomped it all down without second thoughts.

 "Thanks," she said and gave the sack back to Strago.

    He managed to smile a bit and hooked up the empty bag on his belt again. 

    Even though she didn't feel halfway recovered Terra resolutely straightened up. So be it they only were four humans and a dog, she wasn't going to let Gestahl and Kefka rule the world unbothered while she still breathed. They had already stolen almost all of her past life and killed her friends. And she'd be damned if she'd let them get away with it.

    Anger filled her soul at the thought of Mog's innocent, cute face, Gau's merry howling, Celes' sad blue eyes, Edgar's flirting, Cyan's grim resolution, Setzer's measuring hawk eyes, Sabin's strong chuckling, Locke's trustworthy friendship…

    All lost?

 '_I won't allow it_!' she screamed in her mind.

 'That's the spirit!' Maduin gravely agreed with a grin.

 "We'll fight, that's the agreement," she said aloud, grimly, "so where are Gestahl and Kefka now?"

 "Heh…" Relm said, looking away while Strago rubbed his neck.

    Clyde sighed.

 "That's another problem," he began, "you see… Gestahl put Vector on the floating continent and made it a flying city. It only lands occasionally to stock up on whatever the military and important people there need. And of course…"

    His eyes shot needles.

 "… They go to visit the Coliseum." 

 "The what?" Terra scowled.

 "Seems some nutcase went to Gestahl and proposed a circus of death," Strago grunted, "our emperor liked the idea so he used manpower and magic to build a huge arena on the northern part of the western continent. Have only heard about it when I've snuck to Thamasa, but it seems they have monster fights and turn executions to a show there."

 "This world could definitely use a few improvements…"

    The voice coming from the depths of Terra's throat didn't sound like hers, hissing with despise and hot anger.

 "You said it," Strago said. 

    He shifted, shaking his head with a sigh.

 "But, let us be rational," he reluctantly continued, "we're only four people… five."

    The last word was a correction after a snort from Interceptor. The old man went on:

 "We're not in a good position and wanted for the next murder show to the west. What we really could use is apparently more allies."

    Silence hung thick and bitter for a few moments. Then Clyde suddenly spoke again, slowly.

 "You know…"

    He fell silent, as if he hesitated. But then he pressed on.

 "At this rate… we could use any friend possible."

 "Of course, pinhead," Relm said, puzzled but with fond mockery.

    Clyde's pointing finger rubbed his upper lip as he frowned.

 "It's a long shot," he muttered, "but there might be somebody who can help us."

 "Really, who?" Strago asked with suspicious hope. 

 "Do you have a charcoal, Relm? Thanks."

    The father took the black stick his daughter offered and began drawing on the ground. 

 "We're here now," he said and drew a rough circle followed by the triangular island surrounding the mountain area he had just drawn, "and here's Thamasa…"

    He paused after marking the town with a dot and looked at Strago.

 "Is there anyone in town who's got a fairly good ship and likes you enough to help us?" the ex-assassin asked.

 "That shouldn't be a problem," Strago replied, "Gestahl isn't exactly too popular and about everyone's willing to help if they can."

    Clyde nodded.

 "Good. Because…"

    He reached up and slowly drew a smaller triangular island way north of Thamasa.

 "… We're going to look for an old friend of mine, and he's pretty isolated from the rest of the world."


	3. Thoughts

High angst warning in this chapter, but it's needed I believe.

Chapter 3, Those left behind

Nothing means anything anymore. There's nothing left for me, I'm nothing but a failure. I failed both of them… and… that won't matter either, soon. All that matters is my hatred. I will satisfy that, and then I'll be no more either. 

    I will not kill you, Gestahl. I'll take from you what you took from me. Killing you is too simple. 

    A pity I can't do the same to Kefka, but at least I can try to kill him instead. Maybe I won't survive, perhaps he'll be the one granting me the void. To fool him to give me the blessing of death, fool him to release me after I had my revenge. How bittersweet.

    That is nothing but perfection.

*

Am I all that's left now? Am I and Figaro, my poor Figaro, the only hope? For we can hide, they can't reach us below the sand. We are safe…

    We are nothing but a last fraction of hope, Figaro's people are the Returners now. But… we can do naught against Gestahl and Kefka. We can't reach them. So all we can do is sabotage work against their ground units…

    To the very core, I know though… we are insects and we will eventually be swatted if no miracle occur. We don't have magic, no flying units. And sooner or later we won't have time to dive either. Sooner or later our squads will be caught.

    I know this. But I'll still lead them. I won't sit in my underground castle and rot, shivering with fear.

    Yes, I am afraid. For when I fall, it might be all over.

    But that will never stop me from fighting, because then it'll definitely be over.

*

There is no hope. I hath failed again, and we lost all our friends. But…

    My last comrade… we cannot give up, what sayeth thou? If no hope is in sight, shall we give in to grief or fight to the bitter end?

    I say we fight, for those we loved and lost. Art thou with me?

*

I don't know about my race mates, or my big muscle freak of a friend. I don't even know about my human friends, except you, the last one. I see no hope either, but kupo… I'm with you.

*

You… blasted… bastards. You demons' abominations. I cannot curse you enough for what you have done, I cannot hate you enough. Not even death would you allow me, no, you had to spare me… save my life for one last triumph of yours, to finally claim victory over the world's fighters; my friends. 

    You haven't won yet, not over them… even though… you have defeated me. Your trump cards… you know well that if you didn't have them I'd have fled through death long ago. You don't try to stop me, except for with that chaining knowledge that holds me locked in your grip. So I cannot flee.

    Who is still alive, who died? I only know Edgar still fights… but if he survived, perhaps…?

    Yet my hope is so frail, I'm about to give up. 

    No, I mustn't.

    _… So far away now… will I ever see your smile?_

    I… mustn't give up. 

*

They refuse to give in, those fools in Figaro. Don't they understand that they can't stand against me in the long run? Edgar is such an idiot, but I guess he's only trying to slow the inevitable. 

    I wonder how many others survived the crash, though? I shouldn't have let Kefka attack, he's the worst fool of them all.

    Heh, he's not even a fool, he's a loud, clumsy paw.

    I wonder if he needs another dose again soon… sometimes he needs more than usual, now could be such a time after all the hard work with the research he's been doing.

    He's irreplaceable. 

    Luckily.

    People fear him, and that is powerful. Still I wouldn't turn down an opportunity to feed him to a pack of leafers with rabies.

    I've got time, Returners, and I know who you are. You'll be found, and then I'll crush you completely before throwing you all to the beasts of the Coliseum. In due time.

*

It's a lie. It's all a lie, a lie. But I guess you wouldn't understand, pretties. No, you don't understand, how could you… but it's a lie, do you hear me?

    No, you don't.

    Heh, the lie… it's that… it's idiotic.

    I'm among the winners, understand? And still… it doesn't last as long. I'm bored.

    You don't hear me, so I talk to myself instead. How stupid. 

    I'm insane, I'm supposed to be stupid. Of course I'm insane.

    But… it's a lie… I don't need… anyone… who's… listening. It's a lie. A lie.

    I hate thinking, my head hurts again. I need another dose… right now.

    What was the lie again? On which side was it?

    Stop thinking…

*

… I'm… 

    … I'm nothing but a sentimental fool. There's nothing I could ever do to mend what he broke.

    But… I don't want it to be broken, I wish… I wish I had him back. Yes, I must be the biggest fool to ever see the sun.

    When did I do that last? I hardly remember how it was… too afraid, too ashamed to come out, even though nobody can recognize me in these clothes.

    I… I can't help it. He destroyed my life, he took it from me, he… he made it so that I ended up here, in this lonely hell.

    I miss him.

    I wish I could hear his voice and that piercing laughter of his again.

    So let it be that I am a fool, dreaming of the unreachable. I still miss him for the part of me that he forever will be.

    He'd probably kill me at first sight… but… I still wish that I could try to reach out to him. To hear his babbling rants that only I ever had patience to listen to. Nobody else understood what it meant to him, what it meant to us. Everyone eventually grew tired of him… but I loved every word and he loved having me listening.

    I even enjoyed all the equations he worked with, he could solve math problems that would knot any normal brain. Maybe because his mind always was a little twisted, not so that he was insane, just different. No, he was never insane! People thought so because he was eccentric and loud, but he wasn't insane. His mind was always like the sharpest blade, no matter what it seemed to be. The thing was, he found it funny to shock others; shake them a bit. That's not madness, but I seemed to be the only one to see that.

    And then he broke it…

    What is he now? I know he's still alive, I'd know if he was dead… does he even remember what we had, or has he pushed it away?

    I miss him so.


	4. Gogo

Chapter 4, One mimic to go, please

"This is one kind of a trip, Strago," Karn grunted and leaned against the wheel, "and why won't your son-in-law tell us why we're going down here?"

 "I wish I knew," the older man gruffly replied, "but when Clyde's decided to stay silent he wouldn't speak up even if I tied his arms to a tree and his legs to an adamanchyt."

    The owner of the small fishing ship glanced upwards.

 "I have to say he's one heck of a climber though."

    Despite the owner's vague protests and warnings about breaking the sail, Clyde had reached the highest top of the mast and was shadowing his eyes with one hand to look for land.

    Upon looking at a proper map the travelers had decided to go southwards and reach the peculiar island via that route instead. It saved them at least one day. That was just better. After three days on the ship, wondering about what Clyde was planning to do, everyone else was about ready to pick him apart.

    Not that they didn't trust him, but he absolutely refused to tell them who they were going to look for. The only (very frustrating) reply they had gotten was:

 "You have to see him to believe me anyway."

    Now Strago followed his friend's gaze and glared rather fondly at his granddaughter's father.

 "I'd say he's one heck of an everything, even though he can be a real pain sometimes."

 "So you say?" Karn chuckled.

 "Oh yeah."

 "Land! We're closing in!" Clyde suddenly shouted and uncharacteristically punched the air in triumph.

 "Yes!" Relm cheered and jumped up and down, earning a puzzled glance from Interceptor.

    Clyde slid down and went over to the stem. A grim, small smile touched his lips as he placed his hands on the wooden, thick railing and watched the distant mountaintops that were beginning to grow into sight.

 'Now I can only hope that he's still alive…' the retired ninja grimly thought, 'and still there… who knows, it's been almost eleven years.'

    For a moment he lowered his gaze to the waves that broke before the ship as it moved on. Then he looked up at the cloudy sky and closed his eyes, letting the wind wash over his face.

 'Salea, watch over us now and bring us that blessing. We need hope… and so does he…'

The wind was on their side and within two hours they could disembark to the southeast of the mountains, just below the high sandbanks of the beach.

 "There's no monsters here that would go into the water," Clyde explained to Karn, "just stay here and you'll be fine. This should only take to sundown, in any case we'll come back by then."

 "Alright," the fisherman said, "good luck with whatever you're going to do."

 "Oh, if I told you now my family and friend here would tear me to pieces after calling me loonier than Kefka…"

    And with that Clyde climbed down in the small lifeboat of the ship.

 "Now I'm getting worried…" Terra grunted and climbed after him.

 "Amen to that," Strago said with a frown.

    Relm was silent until she sat in front of her father in the boat.

 "I hope you're not planning something extremely weird, dad," she warned, "because I'm getting tired of weirdos by now."

 "Ah, sorry about that…" Clyde said with a small smirk.

    He began to row while everyone else exchanged glances and Interceptor fearlessly dove from the ship to swim instead since the boat was too small.

 "Clyde. What. Are. We. Going. To. Do. Here?" Strago said, very slowly and dangerously.

 "Alright, alright…"

    The younger man's smirk died and he gravely watched his companions.

 "Many years ago, just when I had recovered and left Thamasa and Salea I went to Vector to find Baram," he said and watched them nod in recognition at the friend he had told them about already, "I hoped that he was still alive. But he was nowhere to be found, I had to realize that he was dead. So in my wish for revenge I aimed for something important to Gestahl that I could take as repayment."

    He paused for a moment as they softly hit the beach, but decided to finish his story before they continued the journey. The others remained still as he kept talking.

 "I was sneaking around in the air condition system, and during that search I had noted a very peculiar cell in the very heart of the prisons. The position made windows impossible, there wasn't even a bared window in the door. Very heavily guarded, too. Of course I realized that whoever was in there was very special, so I decided to take a closer look."

    His mouth was a thin line as he continued.

 "Spying on the guards while I planned my strategy just made it seem even more strange. It seemed like everyone were just as puzzled about the cell as I was. Food to the prisoner was brought in via a small hatch at the bottom of the door, and that was the strangest thing of all. You see, the one who came there everyday and opened the heavy lock on the hatch was Kefka."

 "Now this sounds _really_ weird," Relm commented, her eyebrows as high as they possibly could get.

    Clyde nodded.

 "Yes, and you should have seen how he looked when doing so," he gravely said, "he tried to look calm but I saw him pale and his movements were strangely mechanical."

    He fell silent again, clenching his teeth.

 "I planned carefully for two days before I hit early in the morning. By pouring a liquid that turns into a transparent sleeping gas when exposed to oxygen down the wall from my hiding place, I knocked out the guards just after one of their shifts. Then I sneaked down and managed to open the locks on the door even though they were quite a few. Inside the cell…"

    Clyde shook his head and resolutely stood up, waving at the others to step ashore. Interceptor was already waiting after having shook off all the water. 

 "The person inside that cell literally caused me to jump," the former assassin said, "and you'll have to see why with your own eyes."

 "Did you bring him _here_ of all places?" Strago said, rather astounded, "and why, who is he?"

 "You'll understand, trust me."

    Clyde chuckled without any joy.

 "I wish I could have seen Kefka and Gestahl's reaction when they found out he had escaped. I simply couldn't have found a better revenge at them than freeing that man."

    Still puzzled the crew followed him up the sandbanks and from top of that looked over a great plain. 

    But the ground was peculiar. It was irregular and bumpy, as if giant moles had been in the work.

 "So this really is that island where the zone eaters live?" Strago slowly said.

    Clyde silently nodded.

 "What's a zone eater?" Terra blankly asked. 

 "It's a gigantic worm monster," the oldest one in the crew explained, "they are said to be more like living mountains, having caves and tunnels in their bodies instead of normal entrails."

 "Exactly, and we're looking for one with a half moon scar on its head," Clyde said and began walking down to the buckled grass.

 "We're _what_!?" Relm, Strago and Terra choked.

 "Look, this man needed to be hidden where nobody ever would look for him," the dark blond man called without turning around.

    Interceptor calmly strode after him, ignoring the three bewildered humans.

 "He's got to be kidding…" Relm groaned but hurried after her father.

    With no other options in sight Strago and Terra did the same.

    Clyde didn't wait for his friends before he went over to one of the long hills of torn earth and kicked it a few times. Then he leaped backwards, followed by a swift Interceptor. 

    The others had just enough seconds to use for reaching the man and the dog before the earth began to tremble and a gigantic, scaly thing emerged from the earth. It looked like a worm's head, grey-purple and equipped with a horrifying round mouth encircled by dirty but very sharp teeth.

 "You can't mean that we're going inside _that_?!" Terra said with a rather weak voice.

 "No, I don't think that it's the right one…" Clyde absentmindedly said, "I have to take a closer look."

    And with that he dashed forward again, dancing around the horrifying beast as it clumsily swayed back and forth, trying to sense where the snack was. He even leaped in under it to check for the scar on the downside. And then he came back to his rather stunned friends.

 "Nope, it's not the one," he grunted, "let's move it before it starts trying to suck us in."

 "They can do that?" Relm weakly asked as they hurried away from the confused monster.

 "That's about all they can do," her father lightly said, "not really dangerous since it's not that hard to get out, but it would be a waste of time."

    And with that he went over to another hill and kicked it.

    A few hours and some odd twenty big worms later even the other humans had resigned to Clyde's madness and helped him check the zone eaters for the fabled scar.

    They had just had a simple lunch on salted fish, wild berries and bread and were at new strength, ready for a couple of hours more of wormsearching even though it was starting to feel rather hopeless.

 "How many now?" Strago gruffed while Relm jumped on one of the hills to get the inhabitant out.

 "This is probably the twenty-seventh or something," Clyde replied, sounding rather frustrated as well.

    Relm let out a shriek as the zone eater suddenly emerged just below her and she swayed upon it, desperately trying to keep her balance.

 "We're coming, Relm!" Clyde shouted and rushed forward together with Interceptor, Terra and Strago.

 "No!" Relm shouted with a wide grin and jumped down from the enormous head to the ground without any trouble at all, "it's got a scar!"

 "What?!"

 "Right there, above the mouth!" the artist cheered.

    Without the slightest hesitation Clyde swept up on the crumbling hill to take a look.

 "It's the one!" he bellowed in triumph, "we're going in!"

    The relief and feeling of victory that the others had felt died instantly at the realization that they really _were_ going to enter the beast.

 "Are you sure about this, Clyde?" Strago called to his son-in-law.

 "Are you going to give up _now_?" was the reply.

    Strago heavily sighed.

 "I guess not…" he grunted.

 "Well good! Let's go!"

    And Clyde landed just before the worm, standing still and waiting. It didn't take long for the beast to detect the smell of a living being and bent down its mouth to suck him in. But the ex-ninja didn't even grant it that, throwing himself into the darkness between the teeth without the slightest hesitation.

    At first his friends were locked in the shock of seeing him actually do such a thing.

    Relm was the first to awake.

 "You're crazy, dad!" she howled and rushed forward, leaping after her father into the obviously surprised monster.

    Interceptor was just behind her.

 "This is nuts…" Terra grunted as she ran towards the void.

 "I second that," Strago snarled, following her.

    They dove into the nothingness.

    Terra landed and blinked stupidly at Relm, Interceptor and Clyde.

 "Wasn't so bad, was it?" the man said with the shadow of a smile.

    He hadn't even finished talking before Strago slid down the sloped wall and easily landed on the ground.

 "No but…" 

    Terra looked around in puzzlement.

 "Is _this_ how monsters look on the inside?" she said in amaze.

    It really _was_ a cave. Fine earth laid around everywhere, probably had been swallowed by the big worm creature as it dug its tunnels. And in the fine mud fruits and thin vegetables grew among pale grass, growing in the peculiar light that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time (author's note: Look, I don't think Gogo was eating the monsters inside of the zone eater to keep alive…). Some of it flowed in from a wide crack in the wall to the right of the group's entrance. Clyde waved at it.

 "That's the exit," he explained, "I sure hope my friend hasn't used it, but I doubt he would."

 "If he has," Strago said and put power behind every single vocal, "you are a dead man."

 "Really now… let's just find out, shall we?"

    Following Clyde they left the small entrance room and entered a huge cavern. To the right was a wide chasm; pieces of a broken bridge still emerged from it. And on the pieces men in peculiar dark clothes walked around, seemingly without any particular reason.

 "Don't get too close," Clyde warned, "those are just humanoid monsters."

    He walked closer to the canyon and cupped his hands around his mouth to strengthen his shout.

 "Gogo!" he called on top of his lunges, "Gogo, can you hear me?"

 "'Gogo'?" Terra, Relm and Strago blankly repeated.

    Clyde lowered his hands and shook his head.

 "He wanted me to call him that," he emotionlessly muttered without turning around, "he thought that it was a suitable name for the fool he regarded himself to be."

 "Sounds like a happy fellow…" Relm commented.

 "Indeed…"

 "Shadow?"

    The call startled them all and they looked towards the other side of the abyss.

    It was a… heap of yellow clothes with some colorful feathers on top?

 "You're alive!" Clyde shouted with an uncharacteristical grin.

 "So are you!" the heap called back with a strangely muffled voice, "wait a moment, I'm coming over!"

    And it began leaping between the pieces of the bridge to reach the other side. The five guests watched in amaze.

    It was impossible to grasp how the creature called Gogo did it. Whenever one of the humanoid monsters approached him he seemed to move perfectly with it, following its every movement to somehow avoid it. And even managed not to fall off the bridge when doing so. The monsters had no chance to get him as he confused them and brushed past.

    Finally the heap reached safe ground and stood before the visitors. Now on closer look it turned out it really was a human, shrouded in wide robes colored yellow, red and green. Several big feathers in those colors swayed on the helmet he wore, and the reason his voice was so muffled was that he wore a thick veil over his face. The only thing visible of his face between the veil and helmet were his two grey eyes, which ran over the guests with a puzzled expression.

 "I see you've gained a few skills down here," Clyde said with a small smile.

 "And you've changed, haven't you?" Gogo replied, a weak smile in his stifled voice, "why did you come here, then?"

    He looked over the confused humans again.

 "And who are your friends?"

 "We need your help," Clyde said, grimly all at once.

    Gogo sharply turned to him.

 "My help?" he said, blankly.

    Then suddenly his eyes exploded with pitch black horror.

 "Kerr?"

    The single word was a hoarse whisper, almost trembling. And whatever it meant Clyde seemed to understand.

 "Partly," the ex-assassin gravely said, "Gogo… Gestahl and… Kefka has obtained the power of the goddess statues, and they are ruling the world."

    The peculiar hesitation before Kefka's name was just as strange as Gogo's reaction. He stared at Clyde and pressed his hand against the veil, desperately shaking his head.

 "No, it cannot…" he harshly croaked.

 "But it is, I'm sorry."

    Clyde sighed. 

 "And we might be the only ones left who can fight them since we can use a little magic," he said, "so we need all help we can get."

 "Shadow…"

 "No."

    Clyde shook his head.

 "I'm Clyde now," he said.

    Slowly Gogo nodded.

 "Alright. But what can I do to help you?"

 "A lot, I'm sure. Don't you want to clean up after what happened? Here's your chance."

    At first the strange man just stared at the floor. Then he slowly looked up and the feathers on his helmet waved back and forth as he nodded.

 "Very well," he grimly said, "I don't know if I'll be of much help but I do have a responsibility here."

 "Good to hear that," Clyde said and managed a smile, "thank you."

 "But who are your friends, then?" the new ally asked again while looking at the other humans, not unfriendly.

    Clyde took in a deep breath and released it slowly.

 "This is Strago, my father-in-law, and my daughter Relm."

 "Your daughter?" Gogo said, kindly.

    He took Strago's offered hand, rather tentatively. It seemed like he was lightly said shy when it came to strangers…

 "And…" Clyde slowly said as Relm let go of the gloved hand, "this is Terra."

    Yet another peculiar reaction. The green haired woman almost recoiled as the grey eyes darted to her, wide open in shock. 

 "Did you come here to give me a second chance or a heart attack?" the cloth heap finally said after a stunned moment.

 "Sorry," Relm's father grimly said.

    Gogo let out a deep breath and shook his head, looking at Terra with a calmer but still pained expression.

 "Forgive my reaction," he said, "it's just…"

    He fell silent and shook his head again with closed eyes.

 "It's her, isn't it?" he muttered under his breath.

 "Yes," Clyde replied in a low voice.

 "Who are you?" Terra asked, surprising herself with her calm voice.

    Gogo didn't reply, but he turned his head to Clyde with pain in his eyes.

 "We better tell them," the dark blond man gravely said.

 "I was afraid you'd say that."

    The veiled one sighed.

 "How do they know Kerr?" he asked.

 "Worst possible."

    Gogo turned to the roof and closed his eyes again for a moment.

 "Who's Kerr?" Relm blankly said.

    Before Clyde spoke he awaited a sad nod from Gogo.

 "Kerr is Kefka," the retired ninja calmly said.

    The three humans he had brought blinked, confused.

 "What do you mean?" Strago roughly asked, "Kefka is Kefka, isn't he?"

 "No…"

    Gogo heavily sighed and looked away.

 "Kefka isn't Kefka."

    He turned to the visitors for a second but looked away again.

 "_I_ am Kefka," he whispered.

 "Wha… _what_?!" Terra, Relm and Strago choked.

    Clyde held up his hands for silence.

 "The one we know as Kefka is really a man named Kerr," he explained with darkened eyes and pointed at Gogo with his whole hand, "and Kerr is this man's twin brother."

    A gloved hand reached up and clenched over the yellow veil, carefully tearing it off. A corner of it reached the floor and an awfully familiar face bitterly turned to the stunned ones.

    He lacked the make-up; the pale powder, lipstick and the sharp edges of rouge pointing from the madman's eyes. And speaking of the eyes they were already proved different, free of insanity's flame. But it was without a single doubt Kefka. The eyes were sad but had the right shape, that bony face, the nose and those thin lips.

 "Oh, goddesses."

    Relm said it first, Strago repeated her words, Terra echoed him and Maduin muttered the very same thing inside of her head.

 "Sorry."

    The whispered word fell from the pale man's lips as he started to retie the veil with skilled hands that trembled a little. His eyes were tightly shut as he did so.

    Forgive me, I'm so sorry for being the one I am.

 "Take it easy, from the start," Clyde urged in a low voice.

 "Alright…"

    Gogo took in a deep breath.

 "Many years ago me and my brother were both scientists in Vector," he slowly began, "we started off with improving machinery of varying kind, but I began to lean towards magic studies, while Kerr was interested in more rational things like mathematics. But Gestahl was interested in what I was working with, so I grew in reputation faster than my brother and…"

 "Hold it, time out!" Relm shot in, "did you say that Kef… our Kefka liked math?"

    The man in yellow gravely nodded.

 "He was quite a genius, actually," he said with an almost invisible stitch of battered pride for a brother, "I tried, but I could never reach his level."

 "See?" Relm said with a glare at her grandfather, "I've _told_ you it's evil!"

    Gogo closed his eyes and bitterly pinched the bridge of his nose through the veil.

 "Sorry," the young girl honestly said as she noticed the reaction, "habit."

 "No…"

    There was an almost strangled, bitter sigh.

 "I'm afraid you're right, after all that's happened I shouldn't be clinging to the past."

    He shook his head and started telling his tale again.

 "So, I found the way to the espers and… Gestahl himself led the expedition. I was just as thrilled as everyone else when they returned, but…"

Karn asked, of course. And Strago told him that the peculiar figure that the family, dog and Terra brought came back with by sundown was an old employee of Gestahl that had betrayed him and been forced to flee. Of course, he didn't give any details and told it in such a way that Karn understood that he'd be better off not knowing. And he respected that, knowing Strago well enough to know when the line was reached.

    And down in the small cabin inside of the fishing ship Terra, Relm and Clyde were trying to talk Gogo into taking a step he wasn't eager to make.

 "Oh no, no, no, no, no, no and no! I _can't_ touch that!"

 "Come on, you're more stubborn than my daughter!" Clyde sighed and continued despite Relm's protesting squeal, "you won't stand a chance against the enemies we have now if you don't learn magic!"

 "It's my fault they're like that!" the mimic bitterly grunted, crossing his arms and looking away even more sternly.

 "You couldn't know Gestahl's true intentions, who could?" Terra tried, again.

    Gogo shook his head so that the feathers almost broke.

 "You don't understand," he grunted, "I can't do it!"

 "The bad air down in that worm must have affected your brain," Relm snarled, "magic is really important to know nowadays!"

 "I already know magic!" Gogo muttered.

    After a moment's confused silence he sighed.

 "I know the principles, just no spells," he explained in a calmer manner, "now please. I can't oblige the espers to help me become stronger after all harm I've caused them."

 "It wasn't you who killed them, or imprisoned them," Terra said in a soft voice.

 "But it was my fault."

    Terra let her face turn fully to the green, transparent stone in her hands. The flame slowly danced back and forth.

 "Look," the half-esper finally said, "father has talked to all the others and they know your situation. None of them hold any grudge against you, Gogo. They trust you."

 "Terra, I…"

 "Take this now."

    Gently Terra reached out one hand and pulled Gogo's right arm free from the crossing. 

    Very slowly and reluctantly he unclenched his fist and she placed the magicite in the ungloved palm.

    The mimic closed his eyes, shaking his head as his fingers encircled the magic rock.

 "Siren?" he muttered after a moment. 

 "It's a good start," Relm said with a smile.

 "Hmm."

    Gogo slowly shook his head and closed his hands around the magicite as he looked up at his allies.

 "Talking about start, what are we going to do now?" he grimly asked.

 "First we're going back to Thamasa, we're fairly safe there for the time being," Clyde explained, "we'll need to plan carefully before we do anything at all."

 "What can we do?" the mimic asked with a frown, "even with me here, what can be done?"

    Clyde looked away for a moment.

 "I know you won't like this but…"

    He was unable to meet the veiled man's eyes.

 "… Gestahl is the fattest vulture, but your brother is his hunter. And if there was the slightest chance for you to distract him…"

    The former assassin left the sentence unfinished, still not looking up. He didn't miss anything pleasant. In Gogo's eyes was a flaring wave of pained emotions at the thought of getting his own flesh and blood killed. Rage over the first betrayal was followed by overwhelming guilt for the blood thirst and then torn, helpless hope for something impossible.

    Terra reached out and carefully took the man's hand, her heart bleeding over seeing such torments. 

 "I suppose…" Gogo's muffled voice heavily said after a drawn out moment, "that if there's no other way…"

    But his eyes were by the last words pinched shut in abhorrence.

    And the small ship sailed on, towards the east.


	5. King and clown

Chapter 5, Fall of a king

"Are they still out there?"

"I think we're done for, Your Majesty…"

"Don't give up yet! Is the surprise ready?"

Sweat glistened on the twenty-seven men's foreheads in the weak torchlight, everyone for the moment concentrating only on three of them. The men in the small group were furiously trying to connect cables in what appeared to be small, dark balls. A depressingly tiny heap of them were lying to the men's left, a hope-bringing bunch to their right waiting to be readied.

"We need more time!" one of the men harshly croaked, wildly glancing at the distant source of sunlight.

"Calm down or we're toast!" the blond leader demanded, hoping that his authority would help his warriors regain focus, "and we're not going to be caught today either, understand?"

"Yes, Your Majesty…"

Edgar had to turn away to keep himself calm. Trying to dry his soaking forehead with his bare hand he glared at the opening of the cave were two of his men stood on nervous guard. The air was chilling, but his fear sent drops of cold sweat through his skin.

The attempt to sabotage Gestahl's iron ore industry in Narshe's mines hadn't gone smooth. There had been more imperial guards than the rebels had thought and now the soldiers and king of Figaro were hiding in a small natural cave just north of the town. It had no connection to the main mines; the men were trapped like rats.

And the empire's soldiers were closing in, easily finding the fleeing traitors by the tracks in the snow.

The bombs were too unstable to prepare in before-hand and the ones at the refugees' disposal were loaded with some of the last dynamite left in Figaro. More could very well be impossible to get a hold off as anything dangerous was well guarded in this world. Gestahl didn't tolerate anything to threaten him even the slightest.

'No! It can't end like this!' Edgar fiercely thought, forcefully closing his eyes and clenching his fists.

When he looked up again, the first thing he saw was one of the men from the entrance, hurrying towards him with horror filling up his wild eyes.

"Your Majesty…!" the soldier croaked in a hissed whisper.

Edgar's soul froze in terror, cowering before an impossible thought as he stumbled over to the cave entrance.

'All gods, please… no…'

They had been lucky before, but he had always feared the day when the wheel of Fortuna would turn. Where was Locke when you needed him? That man warded off misfortune with his pure charisma…

The runaway thought crashed as Edgar carefully looked out into the snowy world. His already dirty nails scratched the cold cliff he had leaned the hand against.

About ten imperial soldiers and a couple of magitek armors were on their way up the slope of the cliff, all eyes set on the crack among the rocks. Fine, those could have been eliminated even without the bombs, Edgar knew enough magic too handle the armors in a surprise attack.

But there was a man in the lead. A blond man.

The weak snow falling from the cloudy sky seemed to flutter away from Kefka as he impatiently walked, even though he wore a dark jacket against the cold and not his normal green, yellow and red robes easy enough to recognize. The hungry, cruel flame in his eyes could be spotted miles away.

"Is that him, Your Maje…" the soldier whispered, but his voice faltered.

"Yeah…"

Almost like a zombie Edgar nodded, clenching his fists until they shivered.

Trying to open up a passage to the deeper mines with the explosives would be madness, the risk was too great that the whole cave would collapse. Trying to blow their way through and run was the only sensible way… but not with so little time left to prepare more bombs, not with Kefka.

'Oh gods…'

Edgar straightened up, his lips wanting to draw back from his teeth as he clamped them. He reached out and took a hold of the two guards' arms. They stared at him with surprise through the fear.

"Listen now!" the king harshly said, "I'll try to keep them busy for a while to win more time. Stick to the plan with breaking through, understand?"

"B-but Your Majesty…!"

Sabin's brother shook his head.

"I'll be fine, I should be able to get away together with you. You will _not_ try, or let anybody else try anything stupid after I leave, not before you have a chance to make it through. That is an order!"

For a moment they just stared at him, but the sharp tone of the last sentence left no room for protests from the loyal subjects.

"Godspeed," the man who had stayed put earlier finally managed to say.

With a grim nod Edgar let go and turned to the exit.

He took in a deep breath and stepped out.

"You just _have_ to win all the time, don't you Kefka?" he called with all the sarcasm he could assemble as he became visible to the enemy.

"Well waddaya know…"

Kefka's arm shot aside to signal to the soldiers that if they made any attempt to kill that Returner, they would be meat mince within a second.

"Didn't expect to catch a sand shrimp in these mountains," the emperor's right hand said with his usual smirk, "how delightful."

"Well I didn't expect to see a clown here," Edgar retorted, "what on earth brings you to Narshe?"

"Clown eh?"

Kefka gave a hoarse, short chuckle. It wasn't pleasant to hear but it wasn't his laughter, which Edgar felt grateful of.

"Funny to hear that from a man leading a pathetic little rebellion," the madman said with a smirk.

"Why are you here?" Edgar repeated, trying to stay calm.

Every second he could win counted for him and his men. Betting on the madman's smugness was probably the best course of action he could take… the question was how long Edgar would be able to feed it to the imperial lord.

"Nothing but luck," Kefka mildly said, still sneering, "the palace just happened to be passing by above here, and when getting the message from the soldiers guarding the mines Gestahl decided that he didn't feel like letting the Figaro rats escape again."

"What joy…"

"Indeed."

'Play his game!' Edgar desperately thought, sending out the tip of his tongue into the cold air to wet his dry lips.

He knew all too well that Kefka only was toying with him, and there was no stopping the psychopath from killing everyone he could. Or worse, capture them to make the men one time performers at the Coliseum.

'Play his game…'

"I suppose you… wouldn't let my men go… if I came out voluntarily?" the king called, fully aware that such a trade only would be half met if even agreed to. And he couldn't keep from cringing as he spoke, unable to steadily offer the sacrifice to the hungry beast.

"Your Majesty!" came a croaking whimper from the caves.

"I'm just buying time!" Edgar hissed from the corner of his lips.

Meanwhile Kefka perked an eyebrow.

"Very cute idea, Edgar," he commented, "come over here and I might even consider it."

"Yeah, right…" the king grunted, but the wind caught his voice and brought it down even if he hadn't meant for anyone to hear him.

"Not trusting me, are you?" Kefka smirked.

"Not for a single second," Edgar admitted.

"What's wrong with the faith in your fellow humans these days? But I just might be feeling generous today, won't you try your luck?"

"I just might have to do that."

Clenching his teeth Edgar stepped out from the shadows of the cliffs.

He had come about one and half a yard into the cold world when an explosion was heard from behind him and he spun around.

"One of the bombs went off too early!" one of the guards croaked and rushed out to grab Edgar's arm, talking so fast it was almost incomprehensive, "they threw it at the wall, it opened a tunnel, we can escape!"

'Thank all gods…!'

Edgar threw himself and the man towards the entrance with a wordless cry, wild hope from the miracle exploding through his grief…

"Oh no you don't!"

Kefka's voice whipped through the air and Edgar fell to the ground, clutching at the dark spider web that glued itself onto his back and legs.

'Good Lord, _NO_!'

"Guardians of thunder hear my prayer…!"

"Your Majesty!"

The call was almost drowned in the thundering of moving feet and the earthquakes from magitek armor approaching.

"Run you idiots!" Edgar roared, blindly sending a weak storm of lightning bolts backwards.

When he saw the Figaro soldier get to his feet and more of his men showing up in the entrance of the cave to help him, the king desperately threw his hand upwards – and with it, the lightning flaring from his fingertips. Rocks and snow rained down and blocked the entrance just enough to stop the horrified men from committing suicide by rushing out in a hopeless attempt to protect their liege.

"_Run_!" Edgar more or less screeched as Kefka's magic cruelly dragged him backwards, over the sharp rocks hidden under the snow.

Locked inside by their own leader the soldiers could do nothing to save their king as imperial soldiers roughly grabbed his arms and tore him into standing. All they could do was flee before the magitek armors broke through the rubble.

Edgar couldn't fight a wince as Kefka grabbed his hair and violently pulled his head backwards. The stare from the grayish eyes tore through the fallen king's gaze, and he had to fight not to recoil at the delighted insanity filling his captor's features.

"Don't give me that look," the madman softly said, almost purring, "instead you should be happy for the upcoming reunion with your brother. I'm sure he has missed you, Edgar."

"Sa… Sabin…!" Edgar croaked, trying not to grimace of pain.

"Who else, you stupid little sandworm?" Kefka said with a cruel sneer, finally letting go, "but first of all I'm sure that the emperor will be just as delighted as I am to have such a guest for dinner…"

"What have you done to him!" the king shouted in terror-filled rage, for the first time trying to break free from the rough hands holding him.

He only gained new pain as the soldiers mercilessly locked his arms behind his back.

"Oh, not much…" Kefka sneered and turned to lead the guards of the new prisoner back down the mountain, "yet."

He was too thrilled over finally having the impudent king in his grip that he didn't care at all about the escaped men.

And neither would Gestahl.

"Are you sure about this?" Karn asked for the fifth time in the last two hours, "I don't want to leave you in Death's lap, dammit!"

"We've discussed this together," Clyde grimly said and grimly gazed towards the dark coast, "we'll never get a clear shot if we don't go into the lion's nest. Simple as that. And when you've set us off you _are_ leaving, a fishing ship like this will be suspicious hanging around these parts."

"You're crazy, you know that?"

Karn sighed but steered his ship onwards.

"Yes," Clyde muttered, "we are…"

He glanced down the ship.

Gogo stood by the railing, the chilly dawn winds idly playing with his robes and feathers. He was staring towards the coast as well.

Lights could be seen, vague by the distance.

Lights from the arena of death.


	6. Faint hope?

I could have kept you all tied onto the bench waiting for the next chapter, but I'm too darn nice to torture anyone ;) And all you characters there in the corner, you shut up… 

I'm glad you people like this and my other stories, I just want to thank you for the reviews ^_^ I have no idea how I come up with this stuff, it just comes around… well, I did get the idea of Edgar's situation in this chapter when playing The Legend of Dragoon, but I won't spoil it ;)

And if you think there are sudden plot twists _now_, just wait for the future chapters… this will get _crazy_! Mwaha!

Chapter 6, The Coliseum

Terra nervously ran her fingertips along the festive piece of cloth that was wrapped around her head to hide every last strand of her hair. As Clyde's face was unknown to the empire he had led the five of them inside, leaving Interceptor in the fields around the Coliseum as a dog of his size perhaps not was too uncommon in the arena, but they didn't want anyone bothering them about wanting to buy a fighter beast for the show. They didn't want anyone to have a reason look too closely at them.

"This'll never work…" Terra whispered to Clyde, who shook his head.

    They stood in a tight group in the middle of one of the crowds taking up two sides of the entrance hall. The reason that there were two crowds was simple. The emperor and his pack were entering. 

    Entrance to the Coliseum was free, it was the seats that cost you. And no one came to the arena for anything but enjoy the show, or die.

    Relm had dyed her hair darkly brown with something she had gotten from Thamasa, Strago wore an eye patch and a hood to be a little better disguised. With new, mostly dark clothes they had gotten from the magic town's people they didn't look much like their enemies remembered them. Hopefully.

    Except for Gogo. His robes caught a few eyes, but many warriors these days – mainly from Zozo - had quite a strange taste of clothing and he was left alone as well. Besides, he wore lord Kefka's colors… people true to the empire sometimes did that when visiting the arena, it felt somewhat safe. At least then you could claim to admire the blood thirsty lunatic. It was stupid to the core, but there was safety in it.

    Now might be the last Returners' chance. Two nights of hidden camping in the fields had proven fruitful; the palace had landed to let its citizens enjoy another show.

    The problem was of course… all the soldiers. They were everywhere, wherever someone important to the empire was walking. Terra caught a glimpse of Gestahl's whitening hair and thought she saw a bit of Kefka's robe somewhere among all the brown uniforms. And between the Returners and the tyrants' side were a lot of innocent people as well.

    Even if they had dared to stand closer the warriors would have been pushed backwards anyway.

 "We'll have to hope for a miracle," Clyde grimly whispered.

    As if all Hell's forces had decided to crush all hope for humanity, some of the soldiers stopped just by the door.

 "Ah yes, allow me to give you a teaser for tonight's show," a shrilling voice cruelly chuckled.

    Terra shot a glance aside and saw Gogo's eyes widen slightly, as if he had received a blow.

 "We have a special treat for you all this evening," Kefka/Kerr went on with a smirk, "so make sure you don't miss it, everyone!"

    His chuckle pierced the air before he and all his guards disappeared through the double doors to the corridor leading to the seats. 

 "I have a very, very bad feeling about that!" Relm whispered, trying to peek between all the bodies between her and the aisle. 

 "Me too…" Terra mumbled in a hoarse voice, biting her lower lip before she could stop herself. 

    The crowds began to move towards the gates. Fees were taken there, creating a wall that the Returners couldn't climb. They had no money for the seats.

 "Try to stay behind," Gogo's muffled voice muttered.

    Following his advice they let the people pass by them and then followed the mimic as he slipped in the opposite direction. There were gates by the sides of the room too, leading to a flight of stairs.

 "Think there are windows up there?" Strago muttered as they sneaked upwards.

 "Won't be the best view but it seems so," Gogo said in a low voice.

    When he talked like that the veil almost silenced him completely.

    Terra looked around to make sure nobody saw them. Didn't seem like it, everyone down in the hall was working on getting a seat.

    But a pair of warmly brown eyes coldly followed the group of five as they disappeared, eyes thin with hatred that no living thing ever could soothe. 

 "Are you alright, Gogo?" Clyde straightly asked as the stairs ended.

    The top floor of the coliseum seemed to consist of a long corridor running around the whole building. It looked almost like a hotel. On the right side were doors upon doors, to the left windows. Dried plants and flowers stood in pots along the hallway.

    Not a human in sight. At the time all the people who had checked in here must have gone to the show.

    Silently the mimic walked over to the nearest window and glanced out. They were so high up that a clear view was impossible. 

    That big platform in the rows of spectator seats must be the royal plateau… Gogo saw pretty well that there were a few throne alike chairs on it, but it was more a clever guess than observation.

    Something was moving towards the middle of the arena.

    Somehow, even if it was only a small dot, the mimic knew.

 'Kerr is in the arena…' he thought.

    And for some reason, that reflection almost had him shuddering. There was something utterly frightful with the thought, but he couldn't understand what it was.

 'Probably it's the fact that people are supposed to die there and I don't want him too…' he bitterly thought, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling. 

 "Gogo?" Clyde said, gentler this time.

    The mimic almost jumped, returning to the world.

 "I'm alright," he assured, "it was just a bit of a shock to hear his voice again."

 "I see."

 "Now what do we do?" Relm grimly said, standing on her tiptoes to be able to look out at the view properly.

    She stood back and began digging in the shoulder sack she had used to normally only carry her art equipment in. 

 "We can't get a clear shot like this," Clyde said in a hushed whisper, cautiously glancing around just in case. 

    They all stiffened as they heard Gestahl's voice, magically boomed out over the entire area.

 "I welcome you all to the Coliseum this sunny, bright day ladies and gentlemen," he smirked, "and now allow me to give you a present, to the empire, from the Returners!"

    Terra's breath caught in her throat and everyone lunged at the windows. Relm tore out a pair of small field glasses from her pack and handed them to her father. He lifted them to his eyes and fiddled with the zoom, trying to get a clear view of the arena. Meanwhile Gestahl ended his speech.

 "Kefka, if you please."

 "What's happening?" Strago snarled as something that reflected the sun shot up in the arena.

 "It looks like a pillar of metal, Kef… Kerr is commanding it…" Clyde hissed, "it's opening… oh…"

    Even on the distance they all saw by the sun's glistening how the parts of the pillar fell aside.

 "Oh goddesses…" Clyde hissed.

 "What?" the others whispered.

    The former assassin's fingers clawed at the zoom as if he prayed that the field glasses were fooling him.

    Finally he gave up and his hands heavily fell.

 "It's Edgar…"

 "_What_?!"

    Terra snatched the binoculars and tore them to her eyes. Quickly changing the vision as her and Clyde's eyes were different she soon saw what he had seen. She thought her soul would leave her body right then and there.

 "I present to you His Majesty Edgar Roni Figaro," Kerr's voice smirked, heard by all, "freshly from his little rathole of a kingdom. His submarine castle wouldn't save him this time."

    The half esper shuddered as boos and catcalls rained over her friend's hanging head. He was strapped to a high cross, hanging high above the ground. But to Terra's weak relief it seemed that he was only tied stuck, not nailed onto the wood.

    His bare arms and chest were dark with halfway dried blood and bruises, she couldn't quite make out which was which.

 "Is he dead?" Relm whispered.

    Terra took in a deep breath.

 "I don't think so," she finally mumbled, "but it doesn't look good…"

    Feeling somebody's hand on her shoulder she handed the binoculars over to the next user, finding that one being Gogo. They all saw him aim his sight slightly lower than Clyde and Terra had, and they understood.

 'Why do I put myself through this?' he bitterly thought as he followed Kerr's walk until he disappeared behind the wall and spectators, 'he just want me dead…'

    But some part far back in his head screamed in protest as he forced that thought through his mind.

 "Gogo," Strago gently said, trying to call him back to the real world.

    The mimic handed the glasses to the old man and shook his head.

 "I'm sorry I'm acting like this, everyone," he bitterly muttered, "he's just brought me off balance."

 "Look, don't feel bad, it's…" Terra began, when a loud bang from a gong made them all jump.

 "May the first fight begin," Gestahl declared, "I dedicate this battle to my dear fiancée, who decided to stay in the palace again."

 "His _what_?" the Returners choked simultaneously while the crowd cheered. 

 "Are you all deaf?" a cold voice sarcastically said.

    An adamanchyt and a rhinox were let out in the arena and fiercely attacked each other far below Edgar while the tiny rebel group spun around.

    Leaning against the wall just above the stair was a man completely dressed in slick black clothes, wearing Shadow's mask. Brown eyes icily watched the Returners.

 "Locke," Clyde said in a low voice.

 "Fools."

    And with that he turned and disappeared down the stair.

    Terra wanted to call for him but didn't dare to as someone below could hear her.

    They stood silent. 

    The rhinox died and the winner was brought into one of the many entrances along the circle wall of the arena. It would live another day.

    In the old fighters' place came a pair of bear creatures, but on the distance it was impossible to tell whether they were ipoohs or gold bears. Neither did the Returners find it very interesting. 

 "He's going to kill the empress," Relm finally mumbled.

    Slowly her father and grandfather nodded.

 "He'll never live through that…" Terra whispered.

 "I don't think he cares…" Clyde bitterly said.

    Gogo said nothing, clenching and unclenching his fists.

    And in the arena the death continued beneath king Edgar's feet.

 "We can't just stand here!" Terra finally growled, unable to take it anymore, "there must be some way to save them both!"

    Clyde sadly shook his head.

 "Terra, I don't think Edgar will ever leave the arena alive," he bitterly said.

 "Oh, I wouldn't say that…"

    They all turned to Gogo, who let his eyes run over his friends with a mix of hope and bitterness.

 "… Since when have Kerr and Gestahl ever killed off such important prisoners at once?"

    He motioned at the arena.

 "King Edgar is still useful for them," he clarified, "as I understand they're having troubles with Figaro, correct? The king is the bait that can force the people out of their underground lair and Gestahl knows that well. This show is simply arranged to make sure the rebels hear of it."

    Pausing for a moment he shook his head.

 "But it's still a suicide mission, we'd have to sneak into the palace most possibly, there are too much people here. And no telling how many there'll be in there."

    Silence fell over them again. Then Strago suddenly spoke, with remorse but still.

 "Yet… the guarding can't be too heavy in this moment as almost everyone is here. And we have a psychopath clearing a way inside right now…"


	7. Returners in Vector

Chapter 7, The hunt is on

It must have been quite a strain to move all of Vector onto the floating continent, but somehow they had managed. They had rebuilt the fortress too, to look more like a palace for the new world order. The pyramid form was still in there somewhere, but there were a few low towers and a thick wall around the whole thing. Most probably there were rooms even in the fortification, the common people might have their quarters there now.

    The top of the old pyramid had been remodeled, quite a bit had been cut off and now there was a huge crystal bubble there. It wasn't hard to guess that there was where the goddesses were kept, the placement fit the continent. 

    This was the new capital of the whole world.

    Four guards stood by the half open gate to the combined palace and city, sharing a bored look.

    They were all dead within two seconds, tack stars neatly buried in their throats. Locke kicked them all into the creepy mouths flanking the building; what still could be seen of the living island.

    He felt nothing as he killed. Never felt anything at all anymore, and he didn't care.

    It was rather dusky inside, windows were rare and most places were lit by not too effective electricity. But the decoration was quite luxurious, red carpets on the floor and the empire's flag sharing the walls with impressive paintings and tapestries. Locke didn't even glance at any of them as he slid down the corridor, listening for the slightest sound. 

    Hearing footsteps he stopped by the entrance of a side corridor. 

    A servant about twenty-five years old came walking and yelped in fear as he found his back pressed against the wall and a knife at his throat. His eyes bulged in fear.

 "Where is the empress?" Locke emotionlessly asked.

 "Th-the northeastern tower… please… please d-don't…"

    He died, and the murderer continued on as if nothing had happened after throwing the body in a dark corner.

    Nothing.

    Nothing at all.

    The place was pretty badly guarded, and Locke just sneaked past the few guards and servants coming in his way. 

    It wasn't that he didn't care to kill them, he didn't want to waste his time.

    He didn't care anymore who lived or died in his quest. 

    Not even himself.

    With his sense of direction it wasn't much of a problem to find the way. Especially not since there occasionally was a map on the walls. The place was huge and even inhabitants must have problems finding their way now and then.

    A couple more soldiers guarding the entrance to the tower, but not for long. They didn't have any better chance to alarm anyone than the others had.

    The assassin moved up the spiraling stone stair without a sound, after dragging the bodies inside to make sure the revelation would take a while longer. 

    There were two more guards on the platform at the top. The angle was a bit more complicated and one of them had time to yelp before he too was silenced. 

    Locke calmly crossed the final steps and looked at the door.

    He briefly reflected that it was strange that the lock worked from the outside and not the other way around, but didn't care further. As he didn't need to pick the lock it was easy to get in.

    The door creaked a bit however.

    Inside was a room in the form of a half moon, richly decorated with flowers and tapestries. It looked like a living room with the set of sofas and bookshelves. A door in the middle of the wall led to another room.

    It opened and an elderly, gray haired woman in a black dress came out, her eyes shooting lightning bolts as she saw the intruder.

 "Just who are you?" she coldly demanded. 

    That was the last thing she said.

 "Lady May?!"

    A slightly younger woman in the same type of clothing came out and almost stumbled over the body. Before the sight of the dead and growing sea of blood caused her to scream Locke made sure she wouldn't bring any trouble.

    A piece of silky white cloth that the last female had held in her hand fell into the mess together with the lady and turned red with the mixing blood.

    Locke stepped over his work and entered the inner chamber.

    It was much alike the first room, only it was a bedroom. And the empress was there, dressed in a heavily exaggerated wedding gown with the veil hiding face and hair. One could hardly tell whether it was a man or a woman below all the flounces. Of her skin only the hands and lower arms could be seen; she wore a thick, white armband tightly around her right wrist.

    They must have been working on preparing her for the wedding.

    How suitable.

    She was turned towards the door and the murderer, but made no attempt to back away. It was of course hard to tell her set of mind due to her clothing, but she was crouching slightly as she carried an immense weight on her shoulders.

    Locke calmly took out another tack star from his belt.

    It would be over within seconds now.

 "Shadow?" the empress suddenly said, hesitatingly.

    Metal hit floor as the star fell.

    That… voice… it's…

    At first both of them stood like statues. 

    Then slowly he began to move closer. She still made no attempt to move away.

 "No, Locke…?" she whispered, her features now faintly visible through the thin cloth.

    He suddenly couldn't breathe through the mask and tore it away from his face with a desperate gasp. His legs wouldn't carry him and he fell to his knees, his palms slamming into the floor before the white hem as he gulped for air.

    The woman fell down with a violent whispering of moving cloth and caught his shoulders, trying to support him.

 "Locke!"

    He coughed, choking out Shadow and tearing back himself with every breath he took in. 

 'Goddesses, what did I become?! And you… you…'

 "You…" he whispered, finally straightening up and almost trembling lifting the veil off the beautiful, tear streaked face, "you are alive…"

    Her crystal blue eyes were reddish with new and old tears, but it was truly Celes.

 "I'm alive," she whispered, "and so are you."

    They stared at each other for a second before simultaneously pulling the other into a fierce hug of pure relief. 

    After a sweet eternity they pulled back to be able to see their dear friend's face again.

 "What are you doing here?" Locke asked in a low voice, nimble fingers working on freeing Celes' blond looks from the clips of the veil while he didn't let his gaze leave hers for a second.

 "Gestahl and Kefka caught me as I fell from the continent," she mumbled, her arms squeezing him harder in grief, "I'm to be their final triumph when they've imprisoned all the others…"

    Locke frowned.

 "Others?" he repeated.

    She bitterly nodded.

 "I would have found a way to kill myself to escape being empress, but they have Setzer, Sabin and Gau, Locke… they'd die if I… and this…"

    She held up the armband.

 "It locks my magic," she explained, "I can't do anything. I can't leave, they'll kill our friends, you have to get out of here…"

 "Like hell."

    Locke put his hand on her cheek, resolutely shaking his head.

 "I'm not leaving without you, Celes, not ever again."

 "Locke, I won't see you captured because of me!" she hoarsely said, the strong woman she truly was finally breaking through her despair.

 "I'm not going to leave you here!" he countered, eyes narrowing in determination.

 "You have to, if they find you there's no chance you'll get out! And what about our friends?"

 "Celes…" 

    Locke suddenly smiled, a bit hesitantly but still.

 "Terra, Strago, Relm and Shadow are around here somewhere together with some veiled fellow," he told her, "they'll try to save Edgar and the others I'm certain."

 "Edgar too?! Are they out of their minds?" Celes croaked.

 "Gestahl and Kefka sure are if they think they'll have the victory without us fighting back," Locke said with a grim chuckle, "it's now or never, Celes, we'll have to help. It's double or nothing."

    She was silent for a moment, then looked him straight in the eye and nodded.

 "You're right, Locke," she grimly said, "I can't just sit here and let everyone else become imprisoned too."

    Locke widely grinned and nodded in return.

 "I'll just need some other clothes, can hardly move in this damn thing," she growled as they stood.

 "Don't you have anything simpler?" Locke asked.

 "Gestahl has a twisted sense of humor," she said in disgust and waved at the big wardrobe beside the bed, "he seems to think it's funny dressing me up like a doll."

    Locke glanced at the open door and saw the blood spreading over the carpet. Those dresses definitely wouldn't do either…

    He inwardly groaned, trying to fight the nausea back as his own mind bombarded him with memories.

 'How could I do all that…' he bitterly thought, knowing well that he had allowed his despair to turn him into a madman as well.

    There were far too many of those in the world today, he wasn't needed as one.

 "Locke, are you alright?" Celes asked, carefully putting her hand on his paling cheek.

 "See that?" he said in a harsh voice and pointed at the door, "I did that, and I killed many more on the way here. And I didn't even care…"

    He shuddered and turned away in self-disgust.

 "I lost it completely, just look at me!" he growled.

    Celes stood silent for a moment.

 "I know about Kohlingen," she finally mumbled, "I'm sorry."

    The treasure hunter rubbed his forehead, shaking his head.

 "I failed Rachel, failed you… couldn't take it. Damn…"

    She surprised him then by coming around to face him. The veil hung over the side of her head as he hadn't finished all clips, but she didn't seem to mind.

 "It wasn't your fault, Locke, you couldn't do anything. I'm not blaming you and I can't imagine Rachel doing it either."

    Her voice sounded a little strange as she spoke the other woman's name though, and he didn't miss that detail this time. Not really thinking about it he reached up to take care of the last hairclips.

 "Rachel was… special to me, but I couldn't help her. I don't know what would have happened if I could have but…"

    He trailed off and shook his head again.

 "And then I couldn't help you either," he started again, "I've been a heartless demon these last few weeks…"

    His hand ended up on her cheek again, and she put her own hand against the back of his. 

    They stood like that for a moment, until Locke managed to snap out of it.

 "We can't just stand here…"

 "Right," Celes grimly nodded, pushing the emotions aside.

    She clumsily grabbed her skirt to avoid stumbling on it as she hurried to the wardrobe and opened it.

    It looked more like a colorblind madman's flower garden than a closet. Celes looked around and helplessly shrugged at her friend's cringe.

 "I think the only clothes I can actually move in are the slips," she grunted.

    Locke needed a moment to swallow that one.

 "I guess that'll have to do then," he finally managed, "better than those things."

 "Definitely. Got any weapon I can use?" Celes inquired as she began scratching for the buttons on her back.

 "Only a couple of daggers, and you'll be vulnerable without armor."

 "It'll just have to do. Argh!"

    She snarled as she couldn't get a firm grip of the pearl buttons. Looking around with a frown and hinted blush she took in a quick breath and said:

 "You'll have to give me a hand here I'm afraid."

 "Great, extraordinaire embarrassing situation in the middle of the enemy's lair," Locke forced himself to say as he crossed the floor.

    His words had the desired effect to disturb the awkwardness a bit as he reached out.

    Trying to think about that they had wasted enough time and not only on the fact that he was helping Celes get out of her clothes, Locke undid the buttons with a tad bit of uncharacteristic clumsiness. Below the white silk was something green, he guessed one of the slips she had mentioned. It was a bit of a relief for him; it was embarrassing enough.

    Then again, as he thought it over he guessed that she might not have asked him to help if she had been wearing less.

 "Isn't there any way to get that armband off?" he asked, trying to get a conversation going.

 "Yes there is, but…"

    Celes sighed and held up her palm, running her free fingertips over the pearly white surface. Numbers and mathematical signs appeared. 

    A _lot_ of them.

 "It's an equation," she explained, "solving it would release the damn thing, but I can't get through it."

    Locke frowned as he took a closer look, getting lost somewhere around the fifth part of the complicated math riddle. He shook his head in defeat. Maybe Edgar could figure it out…

 "Let's just hope that the others are doing alright," he muttered, trying to give them both hope again.

 "Yeah…"

    He finally managed the last button and turned away as Celes began to slip her arms free of the cloth.

    But as he heard the cloth move and thought of what he had just done, a thought of pitch-black horror pierced his mind and he turned without thinking. She had let the dress fall and was stepping out of it, the green slip covering her body down below her knees but leaving her arms bare.

 "Celes…" Locke began, a little hoarse as he feared the truth.

 "Yes?" she said and looked up, worried over his strange voice.

 "Did they… hurt you?"

    She flinched at the mere thought but then calmingly shook her head.

 "Strange that Gestahl would have that much honor, isn't it?" she dryly said as her friend let out a sigh of relief.

 "I'm still going to kill him," Locke growled, "but I would have done more than that if he had touched you."

 "Locke, I don't need a…"

    She cut herself off as the fondness for his worry about her got the upper hand.

 "Forget I said that," she continued much gentler, "thank you."

 "You're welcome, any time," he said with a smile, "ready to go?"

 "I won't get more ready than this in this situation," Celes said, pushing the fondness back inside to steel herself for the future.

People were still lingering in the Coliseum, enjoying the monster exhibition and the restaurants after the shows had ended.

    But flanked by three soldiers lord Kefka was bringing a prisoner back to the palace, to make sure himself that nothing surprising would happen to the guest.

    He was too gleeful to note that there were guards missing by the entrance of the city, and the soldiers were too nervous to displease their lightly said eccentric lord to keep their eyes on anything but the stumbling and chained king.

 "Quite a lovely occasion, isn't it, your majesty?" Kefka cruelly chuckled over his shoulders as the gates magically swung open by a wave of his hand.

 "Just do me that one favor and shut up, Kefka…" Edgar whispered in a broken voice.

    Every step he took sent claws through his battered body and his head was so heavy that all he saw during the walk were the soldiers feet and the dancing hem of Kefka's robe. The only thing he still hoped for was a quick death, but he feared that it just wouldn't happen.

 "Oh, but I just _adore_ talking with royalty," Kefka smirked as he pranced on, "especially when they've thrown me in the sand of their worthless little rebellion kingdoms…"

    Edgar groaned as the leader and the soldiers suddenly turned into a corridor to the left, tearing him along. The sharp clinking of the chains tore at his ears.

    A blond figure carefully glanced around the corner of the right corridor ahead.

 "That's not the way to the dungeons…" Clyde hissed, throwing a glance at the map they had ripped off one of the walls, "where are they going?"

 "A hunch of mine would be the southwestern wing," Gogo muttered, reaching across the paper to point.

 "But… that's…" the former ninja said with raised eyebrows.

 "Why would he bring Edgar there?" Terra muttered, frowning.

 "Whatever it means, we better move quickly!" Strago hissed.

    Grimly nodding they left their hiding place and dived into the other corridor to follow their game.


	8. Clash of the twins

Chapter 8, Blood ties

Edgar had already lost himself in the twists and turns of the way. There had only been a few, but he had no chance to concentrate with his head feeling like a beehive. But finally Kefka stopped to open another door, and the prisoner king was brought into a darkened room and thrown on the floor a few steps inside.

'Dungeon?' he thought, confused since the ground beneath him felt like a soft carpet.

"Guard the door, I will not be disturbed, understood?" Kefka smirked somewhere in the dusk.

"Of course, lord Kefka," the soldiers obediently replied, and their steps left.

The door closed, without any echo. It didn't sound very heavy either, yet more signs of that it wasn't a dungeon.

"Now Edgar, my dear friend," Kefka sneered as his fingers snapped and the king let out a moan of pain, trying to cover his eyes as sharp light flowed the luxurious chamber, "I brought you here for one reason only."

Edgar couldn't hold back another tormented groan as he was violently ripped onto his knees in his hair and dragged deeper within the room. Kefka showed proof of being stronger than he looked.

"How do you like my decoration?" the warden asked, soft as silk.

The king blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the light. Slowly the stars stopped dancing… but then he just wished they had continued to mock his sight.

His own brother motionlessly stared towards him with empty eyes, frozen in a desperate movement with his arms and legs spread as if he was trying to free himself from something. Just beside him was Setzer, locked in a similar move. His fine dark coat was torn, and the two men didn't overall look to be in any better shape than Edgar himself felt.

Neither did Gau, crouching by Sabin's other side in a leap, his long mane of a hair on end and his eyes wide open and wild with fear.

They were _inside the wall_, clearly seen as it seemed to be of glass. A couple of feet behind them was wall, the twisted exhibition was surely six feet thick.

"Safer than any prison," Kefka sneered as Edgar just got a choked hiss out of his dry throat, "and I get to amuse myself with their funny looks all day long. And now, my dear king…"

A hole opened in the glass, wide enough for a grown man. Kefka snapped his fingers again, and Edgar's chains fell off him. Not that he was in any state to escape, desperately scratching for the madman's fingers as Kefka grabbed his hair again.

"… Why don't you grant them your lovely company?"

"Son of a…" Edgar croaked, wildly staring at the hungry void in the enchanted glass.

The door suddenly clicked, the unsuspected sound cutting through the air.

"Didn't I say I wasn't to be disturbed?" Kefka snarled without turning.

"So you did," a completely new voice said with a deep sadness, "Kerr."

Edgar hit the floor, his head spinning from the impact.

"_What_!" Kefka roared, whipping around, "_you_!"

A piece of yellow cloth fell to the floor.

"Oh yes," Gogo said, bitterly meeting the burning gaze, "truly me, brother."

Edgar tried to get the world to make sense through the searing pain and confusion, failing miserably as a loud hissing from a magical lighting bolt, a heavy slam and half strangled cry of pain cut through his mind.

"I have no brother!" Kefka hissed through his teeth as the yellow, green and red heap slumped on the floor beside the closed entrance.

Gogo gritted his teeth but forced himself to sit up, locking eyes with his tormentor again.

"But I have one," he declared in a broken whisper.

"Fool! Fool, fool, fool!"

"Listen to me!"

"Shut up!"

The mimic left the floor and was slung diagonally across the room, crashing into the glass wall just beside the gaping hole. Once again he got sprawled over the carpet.

"You are a fool to be alive, and to come here!" Kefka snarled clawing at the air as he summoned more magic.

Gasping for air Gogo forced himself up on his arms.

'Concentrate…' he fiercely thought, 'I have to stop him or they'll…'

With a snarl he stumbled to his feet, his eyes following his brother's movements this time.

'Just like that…!'

His superbly trained mind clicked automatically and he mimicked the exact patter of hands, whispering the same incarnation even if he only saw the lips move without hearing. It was almost impossible, but he managed even if barely.

The flaring whips of lightning met in the middle of the room and sent both the combats stumbling backwards by the force.

"What the hell?" Kefka snarled, baring his teeth in his rage.

"A little trick I've learnt," Gogo grimly said, raising his hands in defense, "please, calm down and listen to me!"

Edgar would have been wondering about the stranger's knowledge of Kefka or his set of mind, if the king already hadn't been too shocked over the fact that the madman seemed to be battling himself.

"Listen to you!" Kefka spat, "_you_? You don't even exist!"

Gogo parried a fireball like he had done with the lightning, his soul crying in despair.

'All that is sacred, please give me just one chance!'

But the situation wouldn't offer another one.

Kefka was in the middle of a curse when a blond man silently and quickly slid up behind him without any notice. The end of a dagger's hilt slammed into the lord's head, with expertise earned through years of making sure guards stayed down.

"I'm sorry, Gogo," Clyde sadly said as Kefka fell with glazed eyes.

The mimic's hands fell and he shuddered as Clyde's relatives and Terra dived inside past the unconscious guards by the door.

"You guys…" Edgar harshly whispered and managed a faint smile as the green-haired woman fell down by his side, already muttering a healing spell.

"I know he was twisted but this is sick!" Relm cringed, helplessly knocking at the glass in front of the motionless Gau's face, "how will we get the out?"

"Let me see if I can figure it out," Strago said, walking up beside his granddaughter.

His voice gave away that he didn't really believe he would manage, however.

Pressing his forehead to the wall he tried to make something out of the spell that had created the exhibition.

"Managing something?" Edgar worriedly asked after a few moments, his voice much steadier than earlier.

In his worry for his brother and friends he completely forgot the second Kefka.

Terra helped him to stand and they all assembled before the wall.

"No, I can't figure it out…" the old man sighed in defeat and backed off, "anyone else?"

"Let me try…" Terra said, putting her hand on the wall.

They all jumped and spun around as the door clicked again.

But there were no soldiers there.

"Applause," Locke softly said with a wide grin at the scene.

He didn't wear the mask any longer, and the smile definitely told them of a difference from the Coliseum.

Things fell in place quite easily - though it was most surprising - as a blond woman showed up beside him, closing the door behind her.

"Celes!"

She only wore a dark green full body slip and looked thinner than they remembered her, but she smiled widely and threw the dagger aside as her friends rushed up to greet her with outmost relief.

"How did you survive?" Terra whispered, hugging her lost and found friend tightly.

"They wouldn't let me get away that easily," Celes said, anger darkening her eyes momentarily, "I've been here as the mock empress."

A heavy silence fell.

"No, I'm fine," she hurriedly said as he saw the same worry that Locke had showed her in her other friends' eyes.

Their fear washed away and they smiled again. Until the treasure hunter spoke, frowning.

"What the hell?"

Gogo looked away as he got the attention and stares from Celes and Edgar.

"Wait, it's not what it looks like," Clyde hurriedly said, "he's on our side, Kefka's twin brother!"

"Kefka's what!" Celes croaked.

"There's no time for explanations," Strago stated in a suddenly harsh voice, "we have to get the boys out of the wall and leave for the goddesses sake!"

The slap of reality was rather effective. In their happiness to see each other again the Returners had managed to forget the danger they still were in.

Terra rushed back to the wall and tried to resume her concentration.

"I know how it works!" Celes grimly said as she too hurried over to the exhibition, "I watched Sabin get locked inside that damn thing."

"Can you open it?" Edgar asked.

"No, I'm sorry," the magitek knight bitterly said and held up the armband, "I can't use magic with this thing on."

"Can't we release it somehow?" Clyde harshly asked.

"You'll have to solve this," Celes said and revealed the equation.

They all stared at it, helplessly.

That was, until Gogo pushed his way through.

"Let me see," he grimly said.

Celes hesitated for a moment but looking around at those who trusted the mimic she let him move up beside her and look at the lock.

"I'm not as good as Kerr, but… hmm…" Gogo muttered, bringing the armband closer so he could read properly.

After a moment he joylessly chuckled.

"Oh, this one," he bitterly smiled, "typically him… X is the same as thirty-seven."

With a soft clicking the armband fell off and thumped into the mimic's hand.

"He was quite proud of that one…" he muttered, more to himself than anything else.

For a moment Celes just stared at him, holding her freed wrist. Then a gentle push from Terra urged her to the wall.

Closing her eyes in concentration she put her hands against the glass and began muttering the spell that she hoped would work. Kefka had just waved with his hands as the wall obeyed him already, but magic using always left a trace that the trained one could follow.

Gogo stood still, absentmindedly watching the accessory in his hands. The other Returners chose to leave him alone and focused on the blond woman.

After a few more seconds she took in a deep breath and slowly released it, spreading her fingers wide.

"Open," she commanded.

The glass swirled.

"Of a bitch!" Sabin croaked in an unsteady voice as he fell out but got caught by friends' hands.

He blinked up at the smiling faces, his own a picture of relief.

"You?" he said, his voice barely holding as Edgar caught him in a tight hug.

"Hey bro," the king thickly said.

Gogo turned away, crossing the floor. He just couldn't share the happiness right then, seeing the twins.

"Open," Celes demanded again.

With a desperate growl Gau thumped down on the rounded floor in the glass cave that opened around him. He got up on his knees and hands, confusedly shaking his head. Then he spotted his friends and leaped out with a howl of joy, catching the nearest person – who happened to be Relm – in a hug.

"Open."

"Creep, Kefka!" Setzer snarled as he stumbled and looked up in surprise, "what?"

"It's alright now," Locke said with a smile, reaching in to help the albino get out.

"How long were we in there?" Sabin asked, giving Celes a thankful hug for getting him out.

"I don't know about Setzer and Gau," she said, "but you got captured about one month ago."

"That long?" the body builder confusedly said.

"How did you get here?" the white haired one asked, smiling widely and hugging Terra.

"We'll tell you later, it's not safe here," Locke grimly said, "but what about Kefka?"

They all turned, finding Gogo standing by his brother's side, sadly watching the unconscious form.

"What the…" Sabin snarled as Gau growled and Setzer flinched in surprise.

"It's his twin brother," Relm quickly said, "he's helping us!"

"But what about him?" Edgar snarled, pointing at the fallen.

The answer seemed quite obvious, but Gogo's head snapped up and he whipped around to face his allies, spreading his arms protectively.

"No!"

"Gogo, we can't do anything for him!" Strago snarled, "and he's going to hunt us down if we let him…"

"You can't!" the mimic desperately pleaded, "what are you, butchers?"

"He's too dangerous, Gogo!" Clyde sadly said, though he did understand the point about killing a - momentarily - helpless man.

The twin of the madman resolutely shook his head.

"I know he's a psychopath, I know he's dangerous," he said in a hoarse voice, "but he's my brother. I can't let you kill him like this, I'm sorry."

"Oh for the love of…!"

Strago caught himself, glaring back at Gogo's grayish, determined eyes.

"Will _you_ cut his throat when he can't defend himself?" the gaze silently asked.

With an inner snarl the old man had to face that he wasn't prepared to go through with such a dirty thing. It was too much what… Kefka gladly would do.

"Bloody hell, we have to get out of here!" the old man cursed and turned to hurry towards the door.

As one of them made a decision the other found themselves complying, though it was with just as much hesitation and knowledge that they most certainly would regret letting the madman live.

Clyde looked around as he was about to leave. The others were already running down the corridor.

Gogo had only lowered his arms, otherwise he hadn't moved.

"You can't be serious!" the ex-ninja harshly said.

"Go, I'll be alright," Gogo promised with a weak smile, holding up the armband, "I think I can figure out how to change the password on this and stall things here. Don't worry about me."

"But even so, Gestahl…!"

"Get out of here before he comes!" the mimic commanded, resolutely pointing at the exit, "go!"

Clyde hesitated, noticing the dagger that Celes had dropped on the floor. Swiftly picking it up he rushed back to his old friend and pushed the weapon into his hand.

"At least take this," Relm's father grimly said, "and be careful."

Gogo gravely nodded.

"Take care, all of you," he said.

Clyde tried to force a smile of encouragement, but failed and quickly turned to flee after his friends.

The mimic looked down at what he held and surpassed the dagger to a pocket in his robe. After watching the armband for a while he shook his head and sent it the same way. Even if he would manage to change the code there was no chance he'd think of something that Kerr wouldn't solve if given just a moment's focus.

But even as he hid things in pockets, his mind never did catch up with the fact that he had forgotten something very, very important…


	9. Kerr awakens

Chapter 9, The stage is set

The Returners dashed through the corridors, the newly freed prisoners being healed as they ran to keep up. Their escape wouldn't go unnoticed however as some of the few leftover servants and guards couldn't possibly miss such a large troop. They wouldn't be stopped however, Celes and Terra focusing on using magic at the threats to get them out of the way.

    Finally they reached the gate and stumbled out in the fading sunlight, dashing down the stair to the ground and continuing away as quickly as they could.

 "This way!" Clyde shouted, taking the lead towards the east as he knew Interceptor was there somewhere.

    Terra glanced around. Nobody seemed to be coming out of the palace yet, but it was surely only a question of moments. She couldn't see the Coliseum as Vector was in the way. Gestahl would have the entire army search through the area to find the escapees and surely also look for them from above. Their tracks could be found in the grass, there was nowhere to hide…

    Hide…

 "Guys, wait a second!" she called.

    Her friends stopped and looked at her in surprise, nervously glancing at their enemies' lair.

 "They'll find us easily if we don't do anything about it, let me just work a spell…" the half esper quickly explained, closing her eyes and focusing on chanting something that Phantom had taught her.

    As she moved her hands apart a dust of light showered her and her friends, and they all grew transparent.

 "I think this makes us invisible to others, we can still see each other as we're under the spell's influence," she said, "but we'll still leave tracks…"

 "I'll take care of that," Setzer said and fell into chanting.

    Moments later he waved his hands with a slanted smile and everyone's feet left the ground, rendering them floating upright a few inches from the grass.

 "Brilliant!" Edgar sighed with relief, "come on!"

 "We're just getting Interceptor, then it's to the south as there's more place to move there," Clyde stated, hurrying onwards.

    Soon enough they spotted something black in a distance and Clyde whistled to call his companion. Interceptor rushed towards the sound but slowed down as he began coming closer, sniffing suspiciously. It was quite apparent that he could feel the smell of his friends, but not see them.

    At least the spell worked, then. Terra and Setzer did their work on the dog too to let him see everyone and make it harder for the trackers to follow. After the first surprise Interceptor accepted the strange things happening and followed the escapees as they fled southwards in the deepening night.

 "Hey, where's Gogo!?" Relm suddenly called, though as their floating feet made no sound she didn't really have to overpower anything.

 "He stayed with his brother," Clyde grimly snarled without slowing down.

 "_What_?!" the Returners shouted.

 "I couldn't stop him! He said he would try to help us from the inside…"

    Clyde growled and shook his head.

 "Madness must be something running in their family…"

    He threw a glance over his shoulder, seeing the slowly more distant buildings begin to light up with torches and magical flames. By now somebody had to be alarming the emperor… the Returners could only hope that it would take time to find Gestahl in the Coliseum.

    Clyde knew how the empire worked; when something went wrong you always had to alarm the one who was in charge first, it saved time and truth not to go through several messengers.

    Right now it would hopefully stall the search just a little bit longer.

    But there was no way that Gogo would survive in there. Clyde could by no means bring himself to even hope that.

    The ex-ninja bitterly sighed and rushed on.

    Five friends had been saved, one had been lost. It was a win in a cold sense, but a tragic loss nevertheless.

    For a while nobody said anything, those who had known the strange man for a bit trying to cope with the loss while fleeing for their lives.

 'Terra…'

    The half esper almost stumbled as the voice in her head grievingly spoke.

 'Father? What's wrong?' she worriedly thought.

 'You forgot something…'

 'Oh no, what?' Terra thought, her head rushing with new anxiousness.

    Edgar came in between with the reply, however.

 "This might not be the moment but in case we get attacked, do you people have any magicite left?" he asked.

 'Magi…'

 "Magicite!?" Terra croaked.

 "Oh no, we didn't…?!" Strago shouted.

 "What about… oh _no_!" Clyde hissed, slamming his hand into his forehead.

 "Bloody crap!" Relm cursed, helplessly glancing over her shoulder at the place they were fleeing.

    The place they couldn't go back to, it was too late now. The place where they had left two allies.

-'-

Gogo leaned against the glass wall, glancing between the door and his unconscious brother. He had locked the door to at least give him a few seconds to run for cover in case anyone would try to enter. The wardrobe would do, if he could get the doors shut in time. He had no intention to hide from Kerr, but should a soldier or even worse Gestahl come in he would most definitely be dead.

 'As if I already wasn't…' he bitterly thought.

    He could try to counter his brother's spells, but it was risky. If he did one mistake he'd be toast, and he was still trying to recover from the last two rounds.

    But… he just couldn't leave with his friends. This was his last chance.

 'I can't understand why you care about him, Gogo,' a voice suddenly whispered in his mind.

    The mimic jumped a mile, but managed to cut off his urge to call out loud of the surprise.

 'What...'

 'I'm Siren,' the female voice in his head said, flatly.

 'Siren...?'

    Gogo's eyes widened and his hand flew to one of the many pockets in his robe.

 'Oh no...'

    His fingers clenched around a pleasantly warm, smooth surface, but right the it felt more like a slimy mess to the mimic.

 'Goddesses, I... why didn't you speak sooner, I would have let the others take you to safety!' he thought, wildly glancing at the still unconscious form on the floor.

 'I was sleeping...' the spirit muttered, sounding suitably disgruntled.

    At that confession, Gogo had to blink in disbelief.

 '_Sleeping_?' he repeated, 'while we were in the Coliseum and Vector?'

    Siren bitterly sighed.

 'Sleeping not as you would see it,' she said, 'I was exhausted after helping Maudin watch over Terra while she was in a coma, and was slumbering ever since they found you. Had you summoned me I would have awakened at once.'

    She ended her explanation with a shudder.

 'And now?' she asked, 'the esper facility?'

    Gogo resolutely shook his head.

 'No, I won't let that happen.'

 'He's going to find me and you know it!'

    He thought that he could feel her move back and forth like a caged animal, but was unable to pinpoint exactly where and how he felt it. But it was unimportant. 

    Gogo shook his head again, even more determined this time.

 'I promise, I won't let him have you.'

 'You can't promise that! He might kill you when he wakes up!'

    The mimic let out a deep breath.

 'I know. I'm sorry, this wasn't meant to happen...'

 'You shouldn't be here either...' she muttered, frowning.

 'Yes, I do... I must find out.'

    He took out the magicite and ruefully watched the flame nervously dance.

 'Have to get you out of the line of fire at least...'

    Wardrobe...

 'It just has to work...'

    Gogo hurried over to the big closet and carefully pushed in the magic rock as far as he could reach in the narrow area between wood and floor.

 'I doubt anybody will check there,' he thought.

 'Let's hope so...' Siren mumbled.

    They both froze in some way as there was a low groan behind the Returner's back.

    A lot of things passed through Gogo's mind during half a second.

 'I'm insane, he's going to kill me... either that or he puts me in the wall and gets Gestahl, better he kills me... my brother, my poor brother... I'm completely crazy!'

 "What the... oh, I know... I'll tear their arms off... blasted..."

    Kerr got up, rubbing the back of his head with one hand and growling to himself.

    It took him a few seconds to realize that somebody was holding his other arm, supporting him.

    Very slowly he raised his gaze. Gogo used that time to force himself to stop biting his lower lip. It was about to start bleeding.

    Kerr's left eyebrow twitched by a spasm.

    Then Gogo was airborne again, crashing into the wall just beside the cupboard near the bed's end. The glasses inside of it dangerously jingled, but seemed to stay in one piece.

 'Gogo!' Siren helplessly called, unable to help him.

 "Die!" Kerr snarled, his hands flaring.

    Growling himself the mimic set his own hands magically on fire, looking straight at his brother.

 "We can do this for a while, no?" he said, setting all his hopes to one phrase he prayed his brother would remember.

_ "We can do this for a while, no?"_

_ "Aw, what the hell. It's midnight but who cares? Is there any coffee left, bro?"_

    Kerr flinched, hesitating for half a second. Then he snarled and flames tore through the air, slamming into Gogo's defending ones and disappearing.

 "I said die!"

 "This isn't going anywhere!" Gogo harshly pointed out, parrying a second attack.

    He hoped that the light wouldn't reflect the sweat that trickled down his forehead. It was too complicated, he wouldn't be able to keep copying his brother for much longer.

 "Like I care!" Kerr snapped and raised both his hands, a nasty fireball forming between them.

    Gogo clenched his teeth and backed up against the wall. He wasn't sure if he would manage that one…

 "Listen to me, Kerr!" he called.

 "I might listen to people who exist!" the madman hissed, growling like an animal, "and you definitely don't!"

    It was too late to try copying it now, he shouldn't have hesitated…

    If he didn't think of anything fast he'd be roasted within a few seconds.

 'Gogo!' Siren screeched, 'call him Kefka! It might work!'

    The inferno was ready to be unleashed…

 "Kefka, wait!" Gogo shouted, grasping for the hay in the storm.

    The madman froze, the flames in his hands roaring. The two men stared at each other, faces perfectly alike apart from the sharp makeup that one of them wore.

    Slowly Gestahl's helper let his fingers bend, the fire he held falling with the movement.

 "Kefka?" he repeated, sounding almost confused.

    Not sure if he dared to believe in relief yet Gogo nodded, carefully.

 "Yes, Kefka," he assured.

    Slowly the lord tilted his head, somewhat reminding of a man in trance. His eyes were fully aware, though, and sharply watched the other robed figure.

 "If I am Kefka, then who are you?" he finally asked, soft as silk.

 "I am Kerr," Gogo almost whispered.

    Kefka straightened up then.

    And he smiled.

    A very strange one. But it was a smile.

 "That's better," he cooed, the smile turning to a full sneer.

    But that smirk wouldn't alarm Gogo, who smiled back.

 "Been a while, hasn't it?" he said, still on guard however.

 "Sure has. And how the hell are you dressed?" Kefka smirked, "you look ridiculous!"

 "Have you looked in a mirror for a while yourself?" Gogo retorted, although he managed to smile back he was moving warily when stepping away from the wall.

    Kefka raised an eyebrow.

 "What's wrong? You're walking like a mummy, bro."

 "I think you slammed me into the wall a couple of times too many, Kef. Can you be less rough next time?" Gogo said with a chuckle.

    Kefka laughed then, and his laugh pierced the air like needles, as it always had done.

 "What, I was only trying to break your spine for the goddesses' sake!" he finally snickered.

 "I'll get you back for that, mark my words!" Gogo scoffed and took a few careful steps.

    This time it was Kefka who imitated. They met halfway over the floor and their right hands slammed together a few inches from their noses. Kefka grinned, and Gogo somehow managed to do the same.

 'I can't believe my eyes…' Siren disbelievingly whispered in the back of the mimic's head.

 'I hardly do either…' Gogo thought in return.

 "I still don't understand why you'd come back here," Kefka said.

 "Well, I felt lonely without having anyone to listen to my babbling," the mimic carefully said.

 "Oh, babbling. That's what you do best," the madman chuckled.

 "And you listen."

 "Right ye are, bro."

    They smirked at each other. Gogo opened his mouth to speak again, but a loud knock on the door made them both whip towards it.

 "Kefka! Open the door!" Gestahl's voice called from the other side, lightly said in outrage.

 "Less rough, was it?" Kefka hissed and snapped his fingers.

    Gogo felt the air screech around him as he was sent flying again, somewhat softly crashing into the cave of robes that was his brother's wardrobe. The doors of the cloth-cave shut without a sound while Gogo managed to catch his balance again. But even if the gate to the world was closed, the mimic could see a little bit of the room through the thin crack between the two parts of the door.

 "Wha… what is it, emperor?" Kefka growled with a groan, reaching up to forcefully rub his head like he had done just when he had awakened.

    The lock opened by a wave of his hand and together with four armed soldiers Gestahl stormed in to see his right hand man crouching and snarling in pain and rage.

 "Where are the prisoners?!" the emperor demanded.

 "Where do you think they are?" Kefka snarled, waving at the wall, "the pretty little birds have escaped!"

 "How could they do that?" Gestahl growled.

 "How? How?!"

    Kefka straightened up and pointed at the door with a heated look at the soldiers.

 "You there, out! Find the fugitives!"

    The men looked at Gestahl in hesitant bewilderment, but the emperor nodded after a moment. Closing the door after them – since they realized there were important matters at hand – the soldiers left the room. Kefka snapped his fingers again and the walls momentarily flowed with a blue light.

 'Soundproof?' Gogo thought, trying to aim the question at Siren.

    Somehow he felt her nod, nervously.

 "I'll tell you how, emperor," Kefka snarled like an animal, "they had my brother with them!"

 'The Light forbid…' Siren bitterly whispered as Gogo pressed his hand against his face.

 'He'll hand me over…' he darkly thought.

 "Your brother?!" Gestahl shouted, "where did they find him?"

 "I have no idea!" the madman growled, "see now how they managed to knock me out? He was even trying to reason with me, pha!"

 "I see, still the nostalgic fool, isn't he?" the emperor almost smirked through the anger, "where is he now?"

 "In the bloody wardrobe!" Kefka snapped with sarcasm dribbling from his voice as he waved with his arms, "if he was still here I wouldn't be standing peacefully like this, now would I?"

    It took almost all of Gogo's willpower not to thump backwards of pure relief. Even Siren let out a deep breath of the welcome surprise.

    Gestahl rolled his eyes and nodded, clearly seeing the unarguable logic in that statement.

 "Still, I suppose he's the only reason I'm alive now," Kefka continued, his voice turning gruff with the scornful irony, "truly the nostalgic fool."

 "Either that or the blasted Returners are weaker than we thought," Gestahl mockingly commented.

 "Oh, I can feel the love…"

 "Though it served a purpose now, of course," the emperor added.

 'He doesn't seem to like Kerr…?' the hiding man thought with raised eyebrows.

 'Gogo, sorry to burst your bubble but I think you're pretty alone with liking him,' Siren rather dryly pointed out.

    She softened a moment later as she felt the mimic's pain.

 'I'm sorry,' she added, 'but the espers will never think fondly of him after all he did to us.'

 'And neither will the humans…' Gogo bitterly thought.

    He got a grip of himself.

 'Can you read Gestahl's mind?' he grimly asked, 'to see if he's got plans for the hunt…'

 'I'm not touching that!' the esper resolutely stated, 'both for safety and disgust.'

 'I understand.'

 "Well thank you," Kefka snorted and folded his arms, "now what do we do about this lil' situation?"

    Gestahl began pacing; Gogo found that even though almost two decades had passed and the carpet pretty much strangled it he remembered the sound of those feet.

 "Celes has escaped too," the emperor said with a snort, "but she'll still be bound with the armband…"

    He stopped and glared at Kefka.

 "Won't she?"

    The madman scratched his head with his pointing finger only.

 "The equation I used… I'm not sure if _he_ would know it," he admitted, "I can't guarantee anything."

 "Hmph."

    Once again the pacing began.

 "The main problem is king Edgar," the emperor grimly said, "if word gets out that he has escaped it might stir trouble."

 "That's just politics, emperor," Kefka snorted and waved with his hand from the folded arms, "not my area. I take care of the rampage."

    Gestahl rolled his eyes but nodded.

 "Somebody has to do the dirty work, yes," he said.

 "I'm in for that wholeheartedly, sire," the madman smirked, "have you sent out scouting parties?"

 "Of course, but they're still rather scarce," the emperor said with frustration, "the Coliseum will from now on be forbidden for soldiers on duty."

 "Well there is one good thing with that the full force hasn't been set free."

    Kefka's voice caught a dangerous tone.

 "I don't give a damn whether the others get torn to pieces or fed to the imps, but should my dear brother get killed…"

    He left the rest unsaid. Gestahl nodded.

 "Very well, I understand that. He'll be all yours."

 "Why thank you, sire," Kefka smirked, his thin tongue running over his red lips.

 "What did he look like then?"

 "Duh, like me."

    Gestahl growled.

 "Be serious Kefka, we have a precarious situation here! Has he changed over the years?"

 "Yeah, he was dressed in yellow robes with a ridiculous feathered helmet and hid his face with a veil," the madman thankfully nodded.

 "Good, shouldn't be too hard to spot."

    Gestahl glanced at his pawn with a grunt.

 "Do you need healing?" he asked, more irritated than concerned.

 "Bah, it's nothing," Kefka waved it off, "never mind my damn head, we've got people to kill!"

 "Hm."

    The emperor's eyes narrowed slightly.

 "How is your supply?" he asked.

 "What are you so worried about my health for all of a sudden?" Kefka smirked, "I've got half a bottle left."

    Gogo frowned.

 'What?'

 "I don't want any more incidents like the one when we obtained the statues, understand?" Gestahl said with an irritated frown.

 "So I lost control, it's not the first time it happens," Kefka scoffed.

 "But it better be the last time it happens that severely, and that's an order," the emperor sharply said.

    His helper shrugged but then wrapped his cloak around himself and bowed, more or less mockingly.

 "At your command, emperor."

 "Good. I'll brief the troops and call you when they've captured the Returners, I don't trust you to lead a hunt after getting beaten."

 "I am shocked by your distrust, sire," Kefka snorted and unwrapped himself.

 "We're finding Returners and bringing them here _alive_," the emperor growled as he walked towards the door, "that's a final, we need to get the information we need to catch the rest of the lot."

 "If you say so…"

    The door closed.

 "… Bastard," Kefka muttered and headed for the wardrobe.

    He opened it and smirked.

 "Found you," he commented.

 "Seems so," Gogo said and stepped out with a little support from his brother's hand, "you had me worried there for a moment."

 "What, don't you trust your own brother?"

    The mimic forced a smile.

 "What was that 'supply' you talked about?" he asked, quickly switching the subject.

 "Ach, don't worry about that, Kerr," Kefka cheerfully said, "let's have a talk."

 "Sure thing," Gogo smiled.

 'Something is foul here…' he thought, holding back a frown.

 'Sure is, and it's not only those demons,' Siren agreed.

 'I suppose you won't take a look in his head?'

 'Not even if Bahamut ordered me to.'

 'Alright, I'll just have to try and pry it out of him then.' 

 'Be careful.'

 'I'll do my best.'

 "You opened the lock on Celes' armband, didn't you?" Kefka snickered and plopped down in one of the armchairs, near the corner to the left of the door.

 "Yes, that calculation was simple enough," Gogo mildly said.

    Now that things finally were fairly peaceful the mimic could focus on other things than keeping himself and others alive for a moment.

    His brother's chamber was quite big, not much to a surprise. It had more the size of a normal living room, everything in one place. There were two armchairs and a small sofa in a surprisingly soft green color in the mentioned corner, surrounding a table in dark wood. A bit further down the longer wall was a door to what probably was a bathroom. Next came the cupboard that Gogo nearly had crashed into last time Kefka had tried to kill him.

    The bed was pushed into the next corner, with a  bedspread matching the robes the owner of the room carried. Next down the inner short wall was the fabled wardrobe… the magicite hidden underneath it unseen, thankfully.

    The other two walls was only the glass wall and the one with the door, the latter carrying a pair of tapestries with some landscape pictures.

    In conclusion, the floor was rather open.

 'Lots of space to threw unwanted guests around…'

    Gogo suppressed a chuckle at the macabre thought and took the free armchair.

 "What do you want to talk about?" he said.


	10. The heroes gather

Chapter 10, Plans for the battle

The Returners didn't dare to stop as darkness fell, stumbling onwards through the fields and following the ocean towards the south. Even if they kept themselves invisible and didn't touch the ground, taking turns on renewing the invisible and floating spells, they didn't dare to leave the grass for the beach. Their tracks could be seen in the sand if the magic that let them fly wore off suddenly.

    It seemed like the soldiers still were searching the immediate area around the Coliseum as the fugitives so far hadn't seen anyone coming their way, but they didn't dare to hope that Gestahl would give up.

    Just about half an hour after sunset they almost crashed, however. The fuel from the fear of getting caught had finally run out.

 "I'm sorry… can't go… on…" Edgar gasped and heavily slumped down in the darkness, still floating a few inches from the ground.

    With exhausted groans the rest of the group stopped and fell/sat down.

 "How far… are we?" Setzer panted as he followed suite, looking around towards the place they had escaped from.

    The lights in the north seemed far enough off, but none of them felt safe yet.

 "Not sure, a couple, three miles maybe," Sabin growled between the heavy intakes of breath, trying to support his brother, "come on guys! We can go on a bit more…!"

 "Gau can too…" the wild boy murmured, batting Relm's arm lightly with his hand in an attempt to give her more strength.

 "We're not in top shape… I'm sorry, Gau."

    Relm rolled over on her back with a heavy sigh.

 "We're not safe yet, we won't be until we can get to Figaro castle," Edgar heavily said, still working on his breath, "we'll need to get to the remains of Kohlingen and find a ship…"

 "Is there no chance that they're lurking under the Kohlingen desert?" Locke asked, trying to be optimistic.

    Edgar shook his head, but in the newborn night nobody could see him do it.

 "No, too dangerous. There are more ruffians and supporters of the tyranny in this area than in the east. And I gave strict orders that there would be no attempts to free me in case I got captured, so we won't meet any allies around here I'm afraid."

 "Sometimes you plan too well for the worst case scenario, bro," Sabin grunted.

 "All we have to worry about is to get to Kohlingen," Setzer spoke up with a grim smile in his voice, "once we get there I'll bring out my last remaining ace."

 "What do you mean?" Celes asked, absentmindedly stretching.

    As she did so her left leg brushed against Locke's, who was sitting beside her. They both froze for a second in unsure embarrassment and didn't hear Setzer's first few words.

 "I lost my wings when we lost by the floating continent," the gambler said, "however I might be able to borrow new ones from an old friend."

 "A new airship?" several voices spoke simultaneously, a lot of new hope within them.

 "Yes," Setzer grinned.

    He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again the triumph was replaced by seriousness.

 "However, we're not there yet so we can't celebrate now."

    The Returners nodded and muttered their assent.

 "So," Strago said, "let's rest for about ten more minutes, then we try to move on again. Now while we're able to think again, Edgar, Celes, you're not dressed well for this. One of you can have my cloak."

 "Edgar, you're in worse shape…" the magitek knight began. 

    But Edgar cut her off with what everybody had expected him to say.

 "Not another word, Celes, never would I be so rude that I'd take a cloak from a freezing woman."

 "I'm not freezing that much," she protested, "at least I've got cloth covering most of me, you don't have a shirt."

    Strago dared to lit a very small blue flame in his hand, just so he could see well enough to drop his torn and fairly repaired piece of clothing in Locke's hands.

 "No use arguing with him about this and you know it, Celes," the treasure hunter said.

    Everyone turned dead silent as the light went out again. It seemed like all Returners except two held their breath to the sound of moving cloth as Locke draped the light cloak around the blond woman's shoulders.

    Celes was suddenly very glad that it was so dark, because she had a bad feeling she was blushing for the first time in a very long while. Her war-hardened mind scoffed the tender task that Locke had chosen, but for once it didn't get the usual attention.

 "There," he smiled in the shadows.

 "Thanks…" she mumbled as his hands remained on her shoulders, maybe for a second more than really necessary.

    They both suddenly noticed the silence and clenched their teeth.

 "Thanks guys," Celes clarified.

 "You're welcome," Strago smirked.

 "What are we going to do for Edgar then?" Locke almost growled.

    One could almost feel the smiles that the night hid.

    Then Setzer managed to get a grip of himself.

 "Well, my jacket isn't really meant to keep cold away but it's better than nothing," he said.

 "Thank you, Setzer," Edgar gratefully said as he accepted the black cloth in the brief illumination.

    As he got into the long jacket he spoke again, more practically.

 "Alright, we're resting for a few more minutes. Try to relax without falling asleep."

 "Will do."

    Grass rustled as the refuges straightened out. The floating spell still worked, but they did shift the tall straws around when moving. A mutter of low conversations began, since they all sought ways of staying awake despite their fatigue.

    Celes draped the cloak tighter around herself as she laid down, unable to shake off the strange feeling caused by the knowledge that Locke sat just behind her as she did so. The memory of his touch still lingered on her shoulders.

 "Idiots…" he muttered, making her turn at him with raised eyebrows.

    Her move was more careful this time and she avoided touching his crossed legs.

 "That's not like you, Locke," she commented, almost chastising.

 "Heh…"

    He scratched his hair.

 "It was embarrassing enough in your room, they don't have to make it worse," he whispered so silently that Celes hardly heard him.

    She reached up and pushed at him where she deemed it safe, hitting his chest with a snort.

 "Don't give me that now," she muttered.

 "Sorry."

    But there was a snicker in his voice, due to her uncharacteristically playful disciplining.

 "By the way…" he mumbled, the smirk melting into a smile, "thanks."

    Celes gently smiled, even if he couldn't see it he heard it when she spoke.

 "The same to you, Locke."

    There was no need to ask what either of them meant.

    Somehow, they didn't notice it until it was done, Locke's hand intertwined with Celes' fingers that had fallen to the ground by his knee after the use.

    He hesitated a little, but as she didn't protest or try to free herself Locke dared to add his other hand to the two. Her fingers felt softer than his, but the poetic description that female skin was like silk didn't fit in. Celes' hand was the one of a warrior and it had strength that was felt throughout it.

 "Really, thank you," he whispered, "nobody else could have gotten me out of that."

    Celes didn't say anything, because her mind wasn't able to come up with any words that were good enough. Instead she sat up without taking her hand back, instead adding her last one.

 "Locke…" she finally said in a low voice, but wasn't sure how to continue.

 'I don't know where to go with this…' she thought, irritated with herself due to the indecisiveness. 

    She hated not having what it took to move forwards. 

    Even more when she didn't know in which direction forwards was.

    Maybe it was enough just like this… but it felt as if something more needed to be done, or else they'd be locked in this state of hesitation.

    Locke had more luck with words.

 "I swear, Celes," he muttered with a suddenly harsh edge in his voice, "that was the last time they took you away from… us."

    She wasn't sure if he really hesitated before the last word but somehow that uncertainty encouraged her to find out. Since the tender gratefulness had failed her before she tried another path.

 "Well, I'll have to stop doing those all-out attacks then, I guess," she said with a hint of sarcastic humor.

    Locke chuckled a bit and his hands squeezed hers a little.

 "Yeah, I think we'd all appreciate that… they work, but the pay is too high."

    Celes found herself smiling at the hidden compliment.

 "If you say so," she said, hearing her voice being much softer than she had planned.

    For a moment Locke didn't say nor do anything. Then he slowly moved his hands and hers moved with them. His warm breath tingled against her skin and she squeezed his grip in surprise as she suddenly felt his lips briefly touching the back of her fingers. The stubble on his chin itched her hand a little.

    It was nothing more than a short touch, but it was powerful in its own right.

 "We shouldn't have to talk like this in this damn crowded place," Locke whispered, his breath flowing over their hands.

    Celes swallowed a sudden lump in her throat, unable to deny the sparkling feeling deep within herself.

 "Will we do it when we are safe then?" she heard herself mumble.

 "I wish, but at the same time I don't want to risk not getting to finish what I want to say because of those rats."

    The magitek knight's freer hand left the collection and found Locke's cheek. He snorted almost unnoticeably, a bit surprised despite the warm situation. 

    Far back in her mind Celes made a note that she hadn't noticed that the treasure hunter's face was rather rough with lack of shaving back in the palace. Well, there had been more urgent matters…

    It wasn't important.

    In the darkness the feeling of his cheek against her hand sent warm streams down through her arm, spreading throughout the young warrior. 

 "They'd have to kill me before that," she said in a low voice.

    It definitely wasn't like her, but she was helplessly brought along in the emotions that she herself had lit with Locke.

 "Before what?" he whispered, smiling softly and moving his hand to the back of hers.

    Before what… what…

    Celes pinched her eyes shut.

 'This isn't my area!' a part of her mind screamed, on the verge of panic.

    But it drowned in the golden stream.

 "Before I leave you again," her voice said.

    She bit her lower lip as the words hopped out, they hadn't received her full consent.

    And in a way, she was glad for it. But it also scared her.

    Locke's fingers stroke the back of hers.

 "Leave us, or me?" he whispered.

    He became just as shocked as her, since that hadn't been what he had planned to say.

    On the other hand, he wasn't able to plan on saying anything at all; his head was glued onto the feeling of the blond woman's touch.

 "You, Locke," she breathed, swallowing hard, "I… won't have it again."

    He let out a deep breath, letting his hand slide down her arm to her shoulder. Over her bare arm. 

    Celes didn't have enough mind left to bother about the goose bumps appearing as the soft fingertips stroke her skin. 

 "Don't worry, Celes, I won't either," Locke whispered in a bit of a strange voice.

    If he really did make a small movement that gave her the courage to move forwards, or if she managed on her own, the magitek knight neither knew for sure nor cared. She slipped her arms around Locke's neck and leaned forward into his responding embrace.

 'Finally…' some other part of her mind sighed relief.

 'Yes… finally,' Celes agreed to herself, smiling softly as she rested her head on Locke's shoulder.

 'Finally…' the treasure hunter silently agreed as well, even though he didn't know that Celes had thought the same.

    But in a way, maybe he did. 

    Meanwhile Sabin left Edgar's side and turned his head in the darkness, trying to see through it. The moon wasn't giving enough light and the – blessed – distant fires in the north hardly helped his eyes. He gave up after a few moments.

 "Terra, are you alright?" he murmured in the direction he thought she was.

    There was a sharper sound of whispering grass slightly to the right of where he was experimentally looking; he had startled her.

 "I'm fine," she replied in a low voice from the dark, "why?"

 "Dunno, I just noticed you were silent all the while," Sabin said, somewhat goofily.

    She sighed and edged a bit closer, led by his voice.

 "I'm just worried about Gogo and Siren," she sadly mumbled, "father is trying to reach her but it seems like it's too far away."

 "Oh…"

    Sabin wasn't sure what to say. He couldn't in all honesty think of any reassurance in that case.

 "I just can't see…" Terra sighed and shook her head, "he refused to accept that Kerr is insane."

 "Kerr?" Sabin blankly said.

 "It's Kefka… Gogo's real name is Kefka, but Kerr took his place."

    The bodybuilder shook his head with raised eyebrows.

 "That's crazy. Then again, it's Kefka," he grunted.

    For a few moments they were silent. Then Terra spoke again, hesitantly.

 "Sabin, would you do what he did?"

 "What?"

 "If Edgar was insane, would you refuse to give up the hope for him?"

    Sabin flinched at the mental image of Edgar killing innocents, murdering with pleasure, set civilian homes on fire… and just laugh. 

    His mind roared in disgust at the mere thought, it was absolutely incomprehensive.

    And for a second even the brave warrior from Figaro shuddered as he realized just a small piece of what Gogo must have felt when he saw his brother's madness.

 "Sabin?" Terra said, concerned as she heard that her friend's breath sounded strange for a moment. 

    He had to clear his throat before he could speak.

 "I'm fine," he reassured her, "the thought is just… well, I don't know what I'd do. It's Edgar, I can't see how…"

    Very slowly Sabin let out a deep breath.

 "I guess I understand that strange fellow, when it comes down to that…"

 "What are you talking about?" Edgar's voice came from the dusk.

 "About twins," Terra clarified.

 "Ah, I see."

    They both heard him come closer.

 "Well, what about it?" he wondered, "if you allow."

 "Of course, bro," Sabin said with a somewhat forced smile as he was still uneasy, "we were trying to understand why Kefka's brother stayed behind."

    Edgar was silent for a moment.

 "So that was what you meant about me going mad?" he finally said with a faint smile.

 "Yes," Terra nodded.

 "It's impossible to say for sure," the king said with a less soft voice, "but I doubt I'd be the first to give up if it was Sabin being insane. I guess that staying was just what this Gogo had to do."

 "You twins really must have a strong bond," the half-esper said, with a mix of gentleness and sadness.

    The two men smiled in the darkness.

 "Yeah, it's good to know you have a big bro to come in and help out… when he's not being bossy of course," Sabin said.

 "Why I never…" Edgar protested.

    Despite her worry, Terra managed to chuckle along a little. But it quickly died on her lips and she sighed a bit.

 "I guess there was nothing we could do to get him to come with us if Clyde didn't manage…"

 "Terra…" Edgar said, trying to sound comforting even if he suddenly felt bad for chuckling in front of her concern.

    Sabin shared the same feeling and dared to reach out even if he didn't see her. Luckily he managed to find her shoulder without any trouble.

 "Don't worry too much, Terra," he said, "who knows, Gogo did know Kefka well, he might actually have managed something."

 "Precisely," Edgar smiled, "don't give up yet."

    Terra couldn't honestly said she believed them – since they probably didn't either – but she did feel better just with the two of them trying to cheer her up.

 "I'll do my best," she smiled.

    Sabin started to say something but he and everyone else turned silent in fearful surprise as there was a sudden sound in the darkness. 

    It was still a bit distant and low, but it was definitely a running chocobo.

    They didn't have to say anything.

    It did come from the south and there was only one, but that didn't mean it couldn't be a dangerous enemy. And it was coming straight at them, in the night it would be dangerous to just try moving out of the way.

    As it came closer by the second a small, greenish light was seen from the area that the sound came from, moving with it. 

    A magic user.

 "Confront?" Clyde hissed.

    Silence for a few seconds.

 "Yes," Edgar said in a hushed voice, "we could use that chocobo in any case."

 "Got it," the ex-assassin growled, "get ready!"

    Grass whispered as people stood.

    It came closer… closer…

    Hardly ten yards away. Five…

 "Who goes there?" Sabin shouted in his most threatening voice.

    The light swirled to the sound of stomping claw feet and the giant bird's protesting kwehing as it was suddenly held in.

    Silence ruled the world for a couple of tormenting seconds.

    Then suddenly:

 "Dost my ears decieveth me?"

 "Kupo! Sabin?!"

    There was another, very short silence.

 "Cyan? Mog?!"

    Feet hurried towards the eerie light that grew to reveal its place between the moogle's hands. 

    Somehow Terra reminded to dispel the magic that kept them invisible not to confuse their friends.

    Mog sat in front of Cyan on the chocobo's saddle, both of them looking rather taken by the world crisis – as the rest of the heroes – but smiling widely in surprise.

 "What are all you guys doing here, kupo?" the white teddy bear asked, jumping down on the ground.

 "We're fleeing from the empire, turn the light down," Terra warned.

 "Oops, sorry!"

    The green flame shrunk down, leaving enough light to see Mog as a greenish, ghastly shadow in the night.

 "Sabin, Gau, Celes, Setzer and myself had been captured by the empire," Edgar informed the two returning warriors, "the others managed to get us out but we don't know how safe we are here. Gestahl's scouting parties might start coming our way any time."

 "My heart aches for not having been able to help thee in thy need earlier," Cyan grimly said, "now we must make haste then."

 "Yes," Strago said, "but what the heck are _you_ doing here then?"

 "We thought all of you were dead," Mog explained, "so we were going to the coliseum to see if there was any way we could do something about this kupopo tyranny."

 "Explanations will have to wait if those devils art on thy trail," Cyan pointed out.

    According to the sound he leaped off his chocobo.

 "The bird may carry two or three of thee, who is in the most dire need of rest?"

 "Hang on a sec…" Locke piped up as the discussion almost started, "are there chocobo stables in the remains of Kohlingen?"

 "I believe so, but why?" Cyan asked.

    Locke glared towards the north. The lights were still distant, but for how long? He thought they already seemed a little closer.

 "In broad daylight a chocobo could make it there and back here in about an hour, now it might take a little longer," the treasure hunter said, "if somebody rode there and got us more birds we'd be home free."

 "Yes, if we make it to Kohlingen we'll be able to find another airship," Setzer nodded, "I could go there alone and get it to pick you all up, however finding you in the night would be very hard. Better we risk getting there together."

 "Very well," Cyan nodded, "who will go then? A lighter load than myself will make the quest easier for the bird. And I fear I cannot supply enough gold to hire as many birds as we need, hast thee?"

    There was only negative answers to that. Prisoners and refugees are seldom rich, and these heroes were no exception.

 "I guess it's me or Locke then," Clyde stated with the hint of a cold smirk.

 "You've got the better hand with animals," the treasure hunter said.

    In reality he didn't have any troubles with chocobos, but he felt very unwilling to leave the group due to a promise he had just made.

 "Yeah, you better go, dad," Relm said with a somewhat suspicious voice.

    Celes and Locke both glared in the girl's direction.

    So much for hoping that nobody had heard them talk…

 "Alright then," Clyde said and mounted the giant bird in the light of Mog's flame, "you better keep moving southwards even while I'm gone, to make the distance greater. Keep in a straight line and we'll be able to find each other when I get back."

 "Godspeed," Cyan grimly said as Strago lit another bluish flame.

    Somehow the old man managed to attach the magic sparkle to his son-in-law's hand, providing him with light.

 "Just command it to rise or lower its light," Relm's grandfather instructed, "and you better not get caught."

 "I won't."

    Clyde turned the bird and set off, followed by his friends' best wishes.

 "Alright, let's get moving again!" Sabin ordered while they still could hear the chocobo and see the rider's light clearly.

    Grimly nodding, the Returners recast their spells of invisibility and floating, starting to walk towards their hope again.

 "That really was pathetic, letting them get away," Kefka said with a roll of his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

 "Well, we didn't have much of a choice than to be desperate," Gogo commented, sipping on his wine.

 "Very cute, that," his brother said, coldly chuckling a bit, "and just what will you do if they get caught?"

    Gogo closed his eyes and shook his head.

 "I can only hope they won't," he finally said.

 "You're not gonna try anything if they are," Kefka stated, smirking faintly and watching the red liquid in his glass swirl as he moved his hand, "that's something I simply can't allow, bro."

 "Figures…" Gogo grunted and grimaced at his brother, who sent hoarse chuckles piercing through the air due to the face the mimic made.

 'What would you do in such a situation?' Siren asked in his mind.

 'In that case, I guess I'd have to choose them before him. I owe Clyde and the others too much to just let them die without trying.'

    Gogo cringed in his mind. 

 'But I don't want to chose…'

    Soft harp tones stroke their way through his soul and made him forget everything for a moment before he caught himself again. The mental pain washed away like sand in a stream of water.

 'Sorry, I didn't mean to torment you,' Siren mumbled, gently.

 'It's alright… thank you, I feel much better.'

 "What figures?" Kefka asked, but the threat in his voice was hardly worth mentioning.

 "Considering all, I didn't exactly expect you to go with me on this one," Gogo clarified.

 "My heart is practically _bleeding_ for you, but it's also all giddy to roast Returners."

    Gogo held back a wish to confront his brother further on the matter, but choose not to challenge fate. He didn't, in all honesty, want to know what his twin could think of in order to stop the mimic from aiding the warriors.

    Instead of dwelling on the subject he tried to change it into something less morbid.

 "Speaking of them, Celes' armband…" he said, "why did you use that equation for it?" 

    Kefka drained his glass of wine and frowned at it. 

 "Couldn't think of any better," he muttered, idly somehow.

 "What, you?" Gogo said before he could stop himself.

    To late he remembered that his brother really tried to be Kefka in a twisted way, but it still seemed twisted to him.

 'He _lived_ for math, for the goddesses sake!'

 'Be careful, Gogo!' Siren nervously warned, 'something is moving in his mind…'

    The mimic clenched his teeth, seeing the empty glass spin between Kefka's fingers. A single red drop moved on the bottom of it, sparkling slightly in the strange illumination. 

 "That's irritating…" Kefka murmured, his eyebrows crouching.

 "What is?" Gogo carefully asked. 

 "That equation, I like it but I could have done better…"

    The glass stopped spinning.

 "I just can't seem to be able to calculate them as well anymore… it's just…"

    His voice trailed off and he blinked at the glass. The frown melted a bit, then came back as Kefka looked up at his brother. He blinked again, looking confusedly at the mimic.

    Gogo remained silent, waiting. He hardly dared to breathe, unsure of what was about to happen.

    Kefka raised his hand to his forehead but let it fall.

 "Who… am I again?" he muttered, disoriented.

 "You are Kefka, bro," Gogo assured.

    He didn't dare to take a risk, even if he had seen more of the true Kerr in his brother for a moment it was too weak to pull at. Kefka wasn't ready yet.

    The man with the makeup rubbed his forehead and shrugged.

 "Yes, of course…"

    As he straightened up again the confusion was gone, but he looked a little uneasy.

    Gogo managed to smile.

 "It's late, Kefka, maybe you should get some sleep?" he said.

 "Yeah… you're right, Kerr."

    There was a minor emphasis on the name.

    Yes, something was definitely moving in his mind. But it could very well be deadly, as he would deny it in every way he could.

 "Will the couch do for you?" Kefka muttered as he crossed the floor, not looking around.

 "Don't worry, it'll be very comfortable in compare to how I've slept in the past two decades," Gogo replied.

 "Good… good night."

 "Sleep well, Kefka."

    Gestahl's helper waved a little over his shoulder before more or less crashing on his bed. The magical light in the room began to fade, so Gogo moved over to the sofa.

 'You have to agree that something isn't right,' he thought, aiming it at Siren.

 'He's insane, what do you expect?' she replied, somewhat gruffly.

    Gogo sighed and laid down, moving a pillow into a pleasant position against his helmet. His protecting gear had a wadded inside that kept its shape thanks to the care the mimic had given it through the years, thus he could keep it on and sleep. It had always been an insurance since the inside of the zone eater never had been the safest.

 'He's not as insane as he could be,' Gogo stubbornly commented, 'and he hasn't killed me yet.'

 'But you don't feel safe, do you?' the esper gently asked.

    The mimic sighed in the dusk.

 'No, I suppose not. But I won't give up.'

    He glanced down the room towards the wardrobe.

 'Can you keep your light down all night, by the way?' he wondered, concerned.

 'Don't worry, I'll manage. He won't notice me. Now, you need to sleep, my strange friend.'

    The harp sang its soothing song inside Gogo's mind once again, softly waving any and all troubling thoughts away from its core.

 'Thanks…' the mimic gratefully thought, smiling a bit as his eyes closed.

    Siren withdrew from his mind and returned towards her magicite. She halted for a moment and glared at Kefka, as she was a spirit the darkness couldn't hide anything for her.

    He had fallen asleep quickly, without any help.

 'You damn murderer…' 

    She glanced back at Gogo, hesitatingly.

 'And still… somebody cares for you… bastard.'

    With a sigh she floated into the remains of her body, trying to settle and dearly wishing she could lull herself to sleep just like she had done with Gogo. But even though her harp was soothing it wouldn't work on her like that. 

    Still, worth a try…

 'How in Tiamat's name did I get into this mess…?' she glumly thought as her fingers stroke the golden strings.

    When she finally managed to fall asleep it was an uneasy slumber, but it was better than watching in worry.


	11. Darryl's tomb

Chapter 11, Into the dark

The night still remained but was nearing its end as the Returners reached the destination that Setzer led them too. In order for him to find the way they had been forced to widen their magical lights a little during the ride, even if it had been a great risk. A few times they had heard imperial choppers in the distance, each time turned out all lights and stopped. But even though searchlights had run over the ground they had missed, by luck and avoiding skills. 

    The flyers hadn't overall seemed very spirited, obviously not believing that the escapees had gotten this far south yet. Still the Returners knew that the enemy was coming closer, and they had to hurry. Haste wasn't easy however as there were eleven of those, and Clyde had only managed to get them four more chocobos that the eleven warriors had to share. The birds weren't used to carrying more than one grown person at the time which gradually but steadily slowed them down.

    When Setzer announced that they had arrived at their goal, the chocobos showed proof of being more intelligent than they looked by letting out relieved kwehs. 

    The albino man jumped off the bird he had shared with Strago and held up his hand in the darkness. The magical flame shed its light over a smooth rock sticking out of the ground. Trees whispered in the chilly ocean breeze around the group.

 "Yes, we're here," Setzer definitely concluded with a sigh of relief, "hang on for a second."

    His friends waited in puzzlement as the white-haired man ran his free hand over the cliff. Seconds ticked by, and in a distance there was the sound of more choppers. Their lights flashed through the night, but they weren't nearly close. Still, it added to the anxiety. Celes' arms reassuringly squeezed Locke's waist, and despite all he smiled.

 "Here!" Setzer hissed in triumph and hit a hidden button. 

    The chocobos kwehed in surprise and the humans muttered briefly in the same as a part of the cliff neatly swung upwards to reveal a big opening. A dry, heavy smell of old air welled out. 

    Setzer simply waved his hand at the scent, calmly.

 "What is this place, sir Setzer?" Cyan wondered with raised eyebrows.

 "Well… to be honest it's a grave."

 "It's a _what_?" the other Returners said in disbelief.

    Setzer faintly smiled.

 "Don't worry about it, I doubt Darryl would mind since we need her airship," he said, and quickly added as if to stop any more questions, "old friend of mine. She said I could have the Falcon if anything happened to her, but I hid it here as I couldn't stand the thought. But I'll have to change that fixed idea now."

    Edgar dismounted his and Gau's chocobo with an intrigued look in his eyes.

 "The Falcon?" the exile king said, "the fastest airship in the world?"

 "It's always a pleasure to work with somebody who's got your kind of knowledge," Setzer said with a wink of his eye, "we may have to fix the ship a bit since it's been down here for quite a while, so it's good to have you here, Edgar."

    He cleared his throat and motioned at the dark opening. 

 "But first we have to get to it," he continued, more gravely than before, "and considering that this catacomb has been closed to humans for just as long as the ship's been here, I have no idea how safe it is monsterwise. So how should we proceed?"

 "What kind of weapons do we have at our disposal?" Edgar asked the group.

    They complied to his question in the proper manner.

    When they finally had brought out everything it was a poor collection. Cyan was all set with his katana, so that was well. But otherwise they faced a problem. 

    Locke had one dagger left since his other one was back in the palace, and Relm had her magical brushes that only she could make use of. Her father had another dagger, Gau had his skills learned by animals and Sabin had his fists. 

    Then there was everyone's more or less good sense of magic and the four last pieces of magicite. And of the espers, only two of them were made for attacking since Kirin and Unicorn were healers.

    Finally Clyde calmly took the four tack stars that Locke handed him with a cringe.

 "That's it," the treasure hunter grimly concluded.

    They all looked at Edgar for leadership. It happened naturally, since he had taken great responsibility together with Banon before the catastrophe. As a king he also had managed to get himself an air of trustworthiness, he was their best tactical planner.  

    As their silent vote was apparent, Edgar silently sighed and grimly scratched his hair. He was used to being a leader even in almost impossible conditions after the human world's downfall, but this wouldn't be pretty. At least the Figaro rebels had a somewhat decent supply of armor and weapons, even if it was far from the best these days.

    Being optimistic and hope for no monsters or at least weak ones weren't a good idea in their situation. 

    But at least they'd be pretty much safe from the empire down in the catacombs, since the chocobos had been treated by the float spell as well. No tracks would be found leading here and it seemed to be a very backwater place.

    Well then…

 "Alright," Edgar said and let out a deep breath, "Clyde, Cyan, you two are the ones who can be best prepared for battle here. So Clyde, take a dagger. Setzer, you know the way down here so take the other. I want Setzer in the lead, Clyde follows him closest. Cyan cover our backs. Terra, accompany Cyan, Celes in the front since the both of you are our best magic users."

    He stopped to think for a moment while Clyde and Setzer armed themselves.

 "You two women take Ifrit and Maduin, as well. Just to make sure."

 "Alright," Terra grimly nodded and handed the fire esper to her blond friend.

    The ones that had received orders had split up in two groups on either side of the opening while the others stood by Edgar, waiting for his decisions.

 "Sabin, you go with Terra and Cyan… Gau, Locke, you too. And Locke, take Kirin in case we need emergency healing. Relm, you handle Unicorn. There'll probably be poisonous monsters down there, it's that kind of place. Strago, Mog and me…"

 "_You_ will just stay in the middle and be protected, bro," Sabin resolutely stated, "you might have been healed but you're still in no shape for this."

 "None of us truly are," the king protested, unwilling to be a weak link.

 "Well, as soon as we're down there we should be able to rest for a little," Setzer said with an ironic smile, "not the coziest place to nap but we need it."

    That was yet another thing that they all could agree on. They hadn't been very well rested as they started the escape, and several hours of fleeing hadn't made it any better.

    As to remind them the helicopters roared by in the distance, closer now.

 "Shall we, then?" the gambler invited, motioning at the darkness.

    Terra walked over to the chocobos and cast another round of the float spell on them to make sure that they wouldn't leave any dangerous tracks. That done, Locke let go of the reins that he'd been keeping.

    Immediately the giant birds turned and hurried off into the night without a sound, heading back home.

    They were cute, easy to handle, and if they got stolen they'd come back anyway at any given chance. Very economical. But hard to buy for a longtime use, of course…  

    Assembling per Edgar's orders, the Returners descended into the darkness. As soon as Setzer began to close the opening, those who could work it well nervously let their magical lights rise in strength.

    The door closed with a very definite slam and echo. This caused almost all the magical flames to grow to double size with a jump.

    Looking around the warriors found themselves in the middle of a human-made tunnel. The darkness was gaping to their left and right, ahead was a stair leading down into a black void. It was completely empty but looked to overall be in pretty good shape, save the dust. At least there were no footprints to be seen on the ground, which was a good sign.

 "Now then, ladies, gentlemen and moogle," Setzer said, "there are some safety mechanisms keeping the road ahead closed, but I repeat that we should take a rest first. Just to make sure we could go deeper in of course."

 "Yeah, let's kupo go," Mog muttered and glared up at the closed door, "I don't feel that safe yet with those psychos out there."

 "This way."

    Setzer led them towards their left, and took a turn to the new right. This led to a smaller, empty room. The three walls without a door was covered with spider webs, and below those there were what looked like stone hatchets. Each one big enough to push a coffin into, if opened. 

    Definitely big enough for coffins.

 (Author's note:

I'm not completely sure of the tomb's inner looks but I strongly believe there is a Genji helmet in this room. However, I leave that out of this, since it doesn't seem very natural to leave pieces of armor in treasure chests that in turn are in a catacomb, does it?)

 "Great, I'll be snoozing gently here," Relm muttered as she stepped in.

 "I'm not too fond of it either but it's all we've got," Setzer excused with a grimace.

 "Oh well…"

    Relm sat down and started digging in her depressingly light backpack. After a moment she produced the remains of half a bread, wrapped up in a piece of cloth to avoid that the crumbles fell into the pack.

 "This is all I've got left, how about you guys?" she sighed.

 "I think I've got some left," Terra said and took of her pack as well, "but there's not much after our last break…"

    She sighed as she took out about half of what Relm could provide.

 "We need to get out of this situation, fast," she grimly concluded, "alright, I say we sleep now and eat what's left after we wake up, then it'll be more efficient."

    Slightly back at dispirited, the Returners sat down on the floor. Their magical light lit up the darkness of the room, but their situation didn't seem very bright at all even if they had a moment of rest to spare. Without food they wouldn't be any match for any monster that could lurk in the dark tomb.

Gogo awoke with a groan and pressed his hand against his forehead. 

    It was too damn bright…

    He blinked a few times, then glared at the room overall. Where the light came from he couldn't figure out, and he was too irritated by the sudden awakening to even bother.

    With a sour grunt he sat up in the sofa and rubbed his eyes.

    The extra door slammed into the wall. Gogo jumped by the crash.

 "Damn! What the heck are you doing?!" he growled, glaring at the opening to the bathroom.

    Kefka leaned backwards so that his head became visible in the opening. With a big, amused sneer on his pale face.

 "Still sore in the mornings?" he said with a cackle and snapped back to finish whatever he was doing.

 "Not any worse than you," Gogo growled and stood after another few seconds of collecting himself. 

 "I'm smiling, see?" 

    Gogo stumbled over to the door, finding the inside a rather exaggerated bathroom. Separate shower _and_ bath tub? Come on…

    Everything in the room had a creepy shade of red, and somehow the mimic wasn't too surprised.

    Kefka smirked at him, standing in front of the porcelain washbasin with a tiny brown pot of something white in his hand. Gogo glared at his brother.

    Mornings had never been the mimic's strong side, even the monsters in the zone eater had learnt to know that well. The painful way. 

    Those who had known Gogo never believed him when he mentioned morning gruffness.

    But his brother hadn't ever liked them either; the two men were both night persons.

 "You're awfully cheerful…" Gogo muttered and leaned at the doorframe, rubbing his face.

    Kefka chuckled again and put the pot down. He exchanged it for another one out of the collection of various items beside the basin. Mostly pots of different kinds looking to contain a variety of soaps, and several of them didn't even seem to ever have been opened. 

 'Well, he never cared much for that kind of luxury…' Gogo absently thought.

    Kerr had been focused of complicated calculations and machines, and in the later business there was no use being hysteric about keeping clean all the time. 

    At least that was the same…

 "Why did you have to turn the bloody light on like that?" the mimic grunted aloud, drawing himself from the thoughts.

 "Hey, at least I didn't pour water on your face," Kefka smirked.

    Had Gogo not been so tired, his mind would have jumped far ahead in the conversation at once and seen what was to come. But as it was…

 "Don't make me punch you…" he growled and tried to straighten up.

 "Watch it, I'm older than you," Kefka snickered without turning away from the mirror.

 "Yeah, five minutes. Big deal."

    Kefka began to chuckle, but it froze at the same time as Gogo turned tense as a bowstring.

    The realization came a little too late, but at least it reached them at the same time.

    That was one argument they had thrown at each other ever since their first few years, even if the childish fire in it had faltered into a joke between them. 

    However, right now the puzzle of the words didn't work out well with the picture.

    Kerr was the older of the twins. 

    A mistake had been made.

    Kefka blinked at his own, pale reflection in the mirror, with the same sort of confusion as the night before. Gogo bit his lower lip.

 "Kef…" he said and held back a wince as the expressionless, grayish eyes turned to him.

    The lifeless gaze seemed to burn against the white powder covering Kefka's face. His brother forced himself to stay calm.

 "We should have needed more sleep, I think," Gogo finished.

    At first Kefka didn't say anything, but he slowly turned his head at the new pot in his hand. Whatever was inside, it was darkly reddish and that color was nothing Gogo wanted to see more of right then.

    Suddenly Kefka's head snapped up, almost causing the mimic to jump.

 "Yeah, now that you mention it…" the one with the make-up idly muttered, "got a bit disoriented there…"

 "Sorry, I just went along since the words were familiar," Gogo quickly assured.

    Kefka smiled a little, but it definitely wasn't his natural grin. Without another word he rubbed the tip of his pointing finger in the pot's insides, rendering the skin brightly red.

    Hardly focusing on what he really did, his finger ran against the white powder below and above his eyes. A few swift, simple rubs with the little finger created sharp edges cutting at the rest of Kefka's face.

 "Question, bro," Gogo carefully said.

 "Eh?" Kefka replied, now coloring his lower lip in the same way as he had did his skin.

 "Why is that?"

    The man serving the empire finished one part of his mouth before he attempted to answer.

 "I have an image to maintain, you know," he said with more of his usual sneer.

    As the lips smacked against each other due to the words, the still moist whatever‑it‑was colored the upper lip as well. Still Kefka began to fully color it with skilled fingers.

 "Ah, of course…" Gogo said in a dry voice, truly calmer now.

 "Speaking of which…" Kefka said and put the pot aside, turning on the water in order to wash his hands, "I hope you weren't planning on going anywhere."

 "Where would that be, pray tell?" the mimic commented, on his guard again however.

 "Just making sure, big bro."

    Kefka dried his hands on a red towel and let it thump back at the wall again. The look on his face was completely normal – for him – again; he had managed to shake the confusion off once more.

 "I've got stuff to do and planned to cast a spell on the door just in case," he announced.

 "I'm not going anywhere, Kef," Gogo assured with true honesty, "Gestahl must have put up your description of me on every wall by now."    

 "Ah, it's not only that."

    Kefka gave an extremely rare kind of sneer; it was a tiny bit gentler than his usual. Hardly noticeable, but it was.

 "It'll make sure that you won't go out, but no one will go in either," he clarified.

    Despite the wild twists between doubt and fragile hope, Gogo couldn't help but feel gratefulness with a stitch of triumph, and he smiled.

 "Thanks, bro," he said.

 "Can't have that bastard of an emperor making a fuss about beheading you now, it would be far too messy," Kefka tsk'ed.  

 "A-ha! You _do_ care!" Gogo said, daring a teasing snicker.

 "Lies. All lies!"

    The madman chuckled as he made his way out of the bathroom, fiddling absentmindedly with the red ribbon keeping his hair in a slick pony tail. Not a single blond thread was free from the bundle. 

 "It would just be a bit too much to explain if somebody found you here," he stated, crossing the floor.

 "Whatever you say…" 

    Gogo's voice was far from serious. 

    Putting his hand on the doorknob Kefka chuckled and raised his other hand as well. His fingers twisted a little and the wood faintly glowed.

 "There, all safe," the pale one concluded, "see you by lunchtime, bro."

 "Very well."

    Kefka opened the door much less than he could and slipped through. Still Gogo noted that the dim light that covered the small portal only showed on the inside. 

    The door closed.

    Letting out a deep breath Gogo sat down in one of the armchairs and rubbed his face again.

 "Alright, now what…?" he muttered to himself.

    There was a bond again, but how long would it hold? And if it did, how long could he stay here without being found?

    Speaking of found…

    Gogo straightened up and concernedly frowned.

 'Can the others have managed to escape?' he thought, hardly daring to hope.

    It seemed too much to pray for… but much depended on which way they had gone. There was room for a very weak optimism.

    Either way, he'd know soon enough. His brother wouldn't be able to contain such a secret for long, he had never been good at keeping a straight face. If he didn't blurt it out by mistake, his absolute zero skill in acting would give him away. He forgot himself quickly.

    Gogo clenched his teeth.

 'Great…'

    But maybe, maybe Kefka would manage to keep this secret safe…

 'We're doomed,' Siren bitterly concluded.

    Gogo's lips twitched.

 'You're awake, hm?'

 'Just woke up. How is he this morning then?'

 'He lost himself in Kerr again for a moment, but got back.' 

    Siren shook her head, but the mimic wasn't completely sure how he could know. The knowledge was just there in his head.

 'Is the lock on the door safe?' Gogo asked, just to make sure.

 'On moment…'

    For a couple of seconds his head felt strangely emptied, then the female esper returned.

 'Yes, it'll hold back almost anything. Nothing is unbreakable but that's pretty close for a human,' she reported.

 'Then we're safe.'

 'Imprisoned,' she corrected.

 'If I leave the room I'll get killed on sight, and if I bring you with me then you're going to the facility… if they still have one now that they have the goddesses.'

    Siren shuddered.

 'Well, I'm not going to look,' she said, 'it was bad enough seeing it before I escaped with Ramuh and the others, and then saw it again with the Returners. I'm not going back there willingly.'

 'Who would… sorry, I made you feel horrible.'

    She tried to smile by his honest apology.

 'You're a good man for being bored here, Gogo,' she admitted, 'thank you,'

 'It's the least I can do.'

    Sighing the mimic leaned his check in his palm, trying to think of how his life possibly could move forwards without ending in disaster for him, his brother and friends anytime soon.

    Despite the friendship with Kefka, the fact was still that he was locked inside the enemy's lair.

 'The secret prisoner of Vector… again.'

    He shuddered at the thought and grimaced.

 'No, this is not like back then… there's still hope now,' he sternly told himself.

 'You fascinate me, Gogo,' Siren gently said, 'you still love your brother despite all that he's done. I cannot understand you.'

    The mimic leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

 '… Neither can I…' he finally thought, shaking his head, 'I must be crazier than he is.'

 'Indeed.'

 'Hey!'

    He smiled sarcastically without any joy.

 'It might be in our family…'

 'Now that wouldn't surprise me the least,' the esper concluded, sighing softly.

 'Hm.'


	12. In the depths

Chapter 12, The Falcon

The many footsteps echoed in the chilly, damp air, but by the lack of truly threatening monsters the heroes had become a little more relaxed. They really had no choice but to lower their guard, the little food they had had was gnawing on their strength and focus. But at least none the few monsters in the crypt had so far turned out to be anything that the group couldn't handle. 

    A couple of more or less immobile flesh-eating flowers and furious but slow and crawly bugs at the size of small poodles weren't more than even tired warriors could handle.

    Nevertheless, the Returners were at their last ounce of strength. The hunger, exhaust and fear were nagging them all.

 "We'll be there soon," Setzer promised as they walked down another corridor, his voice giving away how tired he was as well.

    The only reply was relieved mutters. The gambler pursed his mouth and tried to hurry on.

    Yes… that's the last door.

    He smiled and tried the old handle as they reached it. To his relief the it didn't give him any troubles and opened flawlessly. He sighed softly as he stepped in and let his magic light rise to lit up the room. It was big, almost like a small chapel. Facing the door, above a stair of three steps was a platform. And on it was something long and softly rectangular, slightly thicker in one end. 

    A darkly purple cloth was draped over the coffin, covered with dust and spider web. By the head end stood a pot of long dead flowers.

 "Morning, Darryl…" the albino gambler whispered to himself, smiling sadly.

    He was the first to admit he was a hopeless romantic, but he had never enjoyed the bittersweet kind. Too much of that in his own life.

    And he was well aware that all he had needed to do in order to save her had been not to take up her challenge to a race.

    But of course, he'd never back out of anything like that, it just wasn't him. And neither had she been.

    Somebody put a hand on his shoulder and Setzer looked around, a bit to his surprise finding Cyan watching him silently with his normally steel-hard eyes glimmering with understanding.

    Out of habit the gambler was about to defend himself, say that he hadn't had that kind of relationship with Darryl. It was just less painful than listening to the awkward condolences. However, just facing mute knowledge of a man who had lost those he loved above everything else, Setzer let it be what it really was and simply nodded slightly.

    Cyan nodded in return, so faintly that it was hardly noticeable.  

 "Alright, we're almost there," the gambler said as Cyan's hand left his shoulder.

    Setzer was closely followed by relieved sighs as he stepped forwards to the coffin and sunk down on one knee on the stair just before the platform.

 'Lesse… here somewhere…' he thought as he ran his hand over the wall of the highest step.

    Seconds passed and he begun to worry just before his fingertips finally found the faint bump and he pushed at it with fingers that almost shook.

    A cracking sound was heard from the darkness behind Darryl's resting place, followed by a sharp screeching of stone being scraped against stone. It lasted for a few painfully drawn seconds during which everyone pressed their hands against their ears to escape the horrid noise. 

    It ended after what seemed like an eternity to the sound sensors that the humans and the moogle were granted.

    Setzer stood and brushed himself off, looking past the grave. He raised his hand and carefully, ready for anything, let the flame grow until a big opening in the far back wall could be vaguely seen.

    To make sure he stood still and waited for a few more moments, and trusting him the others in the hall kept silent.  

    Finally the gambler nodded with a smile.

 "Come on," he gently urged and stepped towards the darkness.

    Their hopes rising, the rest of the Returners followed him.

    They would never know how lucky they were that early morning. The disturbance of the silent grave may sometimes awaken a sleeping undead when there's magic in the air.

    However, to tear up a slumber as deep as Dullahan's, it would take a scream of the Earth itself. And thus, all the warriors made it through Darryl's tomb alive.

    The group left the resting place behind and entered another dark area, finding themselves on square ledge cut out by humans. The platform was big enough for them all, and there had been room for even more people. Facing the entrance a sturdy – if covered with cobwebs – bridge leading further into the dusk, where the low lights couldn't reach. The echo of the Returners' steps gave away that there was quite a lot of open space around them; also hinted by the less arid feeling in the air.

 "This is it, let's take a look," Setzer grimly said and raised both his hands, cupping them before his face.

    The flame in his left palm grew into his right as well, its light rising with its increasing size. As Terra and Strago moved up beside the albino to add their magical fires as well, it became enough to see the end of the bridge. It wasn't that long, only about six, seven yards. On the other side was something that looked suspiciously much like an airship. 

    Its design was slightly different than the Blackjack; more rounded and less pointy. The biggest difference was that the balloon looming on its very own, thin metal skeleton was softly gray instead of black.

 "From here it looks alright," Edgar acknowledged, "maybe needs a little more air up there."

    He motioned at the somewhat slumping form of the balloon and met Setzer's thoughtful eyes.

 "What do you think?" the king added. 

 "I guess we better take a closer look."

    Setzer began walking towards the bridge when Terra caught his upper arm

 "I think it's safer that I go first," she said with a tired smile at his questioning grunt due to the sudden stop, "if the bridge turns out not being safe, at least I can morph into my esper form and fly to safety."

 "Heh, good point," Setzer nodded and stepped back.

    The green-haired woman tried to muster another smile and crossed the big square. Carefully she placed her right foot on the dusty planks. 

    Looked sturdy enough, below the signs of years of stillness.

    Felt sturdy enough.

    Sounded sturdy enough.

    _Was_ sturdy enough?

    Despite their knowledge of Terra's flying abilities, all of her friends anxiously followed her very movement as she began to warily cross the hungry darkness. The sound of her footsteps was for the creeping seconds all that was heard.

    Her flame flickered eerily as she moved, and as she came closer and closer to the shadowed Falcon there were brief moments when Terra seemed to be walking on thin air since the light wouldn't show the bridge below her. 

    But against all unease, she made it across. Standing by the fence encircling the deck she turned and waved to the rest of the group that it really was safe.

    Setzer was the next to cross, and one by one – just to be on the safe side – each one of the tired Returners made it to the ship. 

 "Very well, so far so good," Edgar announced, using as much of his authority voice as he could muster, "but don't relax yet. We better have a look around to make sure there are no monsters here."

 "No tracks here," Gau announced, crouching on all four to inspect the thin layer of fine sand and dust on the planks, "but check below… can be hiding."

 "Precisely," the king said with a faint smile.

    It was hardly believable that anything living under the deck wouldn't have been moving about, however… better safe than sorry. It turned out being an unneeded worry however. 

    The interior of the Falcon was as untouched as the outside, a fine layer of dust silently set on the carpets and the blankets covering most of the furniture. It was obvious that nothing had been there for a very long time. 

    Just to make perfectly sure they teamed up in five smaller groups and checked through all the smaller rooms on Setzer's directions. For an unspoken reason the gambler grabbed Edgar and dragged him down the big hall towards their right.

    Clyde followed Relm and Gau as they walked to the lower floor of the inner ship. Without a word the three began pulling the protecting blankets off the sofa and armchairs that could be found there. Just seeing the pillows in the flickering light of the small girl's flame made them feel even more tired, even the sturdy Clyde was on his last strength.

 "Take a rest you two," he said to the youngsters, suppressing his own exhaust.

    Relm was about to protest that she could take just as much as anyone else, but it would have been just for the sake of habit and not anywhere near the truth. The fatigue won over her stubbornness and with a silent nod she laid down in one end of the sofa after placing her magical flame in her father's hand.

    With a huge yawn Gau laid down on the other end of the furniture and fell asleep immediately. Relm on the other hand shuffled the decoration pillow around a bit in her half-conscious state before she drifted off. 

    Clyde smiled faintly and walked back towards the stairs to check on the others. He could hear their steps approaching on the upper level…

    There was a distant, metallic screech and all of a sudden the homey lamps adorning the walls sprung to life, shedding a warm, soft light that easily outdid the tentative magic. 

    The two sleepers just muttered something and buried their faces against the sofa's soft skin, without waking up.

 "It works!" Setzer and Edgar's voices cheered, hardly heard from the deeper depths of the ship. 

 "What art thee doing?" Cyan called as loudly as he dared, having seen the children on the sofa.

    The gambler's pale face became visible above a square hole in the floor, near the stern side of the ship. His earlier exhaustion seemed to have been blown away as he smiled widely.

 "The machinery still works though it's been five years since it was used last!" he cheerfully reported, "that means we can get out of here!"

 "Really!?" 

    The warriors rushed over the floor towards the gambler, in their relief momentarily forgetting how tired they were. As they got closer to the man they could hear a humming sound as of a motor starting up.

 "It could use a little oil to move smoother, but it will indeed work," Edgar's voice assured from below the stair. 

    Beneath Setzer's feet anyone who cared to look could see cogwheels turning and small puffs of fume erupt from a strange machine going even deeper within the ship. The humming got louder, but never reached a level of being too noisy. It stopped by bearable. 

 "We're just refilling the balloon for now," Setzer informed the troop, "me and Edgar agrees that though we're in need of supplies it would be a very bad idea trying to make a break for it in broad daylight. It should be late morning out there by now."

 "Three minutes to half past nine," Strago nodded as he took out a small pocket watch from his robe, "we really should wait until tonight."

 "I guess it's too much to wish for that there's anything edible around here?" Locke commented with a grimace.

    Setzer's smile died and he sadly shook his head.

 "Afraid not. Unless you'd like to go out there and catch one of those giant insects."

    His attempt at humor wasn't even appreciated by himself. 

As he had promised, Kefka had returned by lunchtime. 

    Even if he hadn't heard anyone trying to open the door, Gogo had voiced his worry about whether or not anybody would be suspicious when attempting to enter the room and finding it to be locked. At that, Kefka had just finished shoving the serving tray with the food inside, closed the door and waved it off. According to him, servants only entered his chamber if they absolutely had to, thus the tray had been waiting. 

    Now the brothers were trying to divide the lunch. There was quite a lot of various dishes; a lobster, a pair of chicken legs, rice, salad and a plate of fruit.

 "Don't eat too much," Kefka absentmindedly muttered while handing/throwing the chicken at his brother, "they _will_ start to wonder if all of it disappears."

    Gogo raised his eyebrows.

    This Kefka, thinking rationally?

    But he chose to let this risk pass as well.

 "Gotcha," he just said and took one of the legs from the plate.

    Kefka nabbed the second one and leaned back, looking at his brother with amusement.

 "What?" the mimic snorted after swallowing a piece of well spiced meat.

    It wasn't that much, but it was the best meal he had had for years.

 "You look absolutely ridiculous," the madman commented.

    With a careful chuckle Gogo raised his cleaner hand to his helmet.

 "You mean this?"

 "Yeah. And Edgar called _me_ a clown?" Kefka snickered and shook his head.

 "Well, it has served me well through the years."

    Gogo grimaced.

 "Besides, I don't think you'd like to see how my hair looks nowadays. Heck, _I_ don't want to see how it looks."

 "You shouldn't awaken my curiosity, but I'll let it slide for now."

 "What a relief. So, anything new about the Returners?" the mimic carefully asked as Kefka buried his teeth in the bird's roasted flesh.

    Despite what many probably would believe, Gestahl's right hand did have enough manners not to speak when his mouth was full. Therefore it took a few moments before the answer came.

 "Nothing."

    The voice came with an indifferent shrug.

 "What, nothing at all?" Gogo said, trying to keep the complete relief off his voice.

 'Do you know if it's really true?' he silently asked Siren.

    Though their conversations went faster than breaths since they consisted of thoughts, she didn't have time to come to a conclusion before Kefka waved with his free hand dismissively.

 "Now don't you try to hide from me that you're not happy," he said with a hoarse chuckle, "you're a worse actor than I am."

 'I… don't think he's hiding something,' Siren quickly whispered, 'it's hard to see from the outside though.'

 "Well what can I say?" Gogo mildly said and shook his head, daring to continue, "and I thought it would make you more irritated than you sound right now."

    Kefka looked up with a slanted smirk.

 "Oh, don't get me wrong," he merrily said, "nothing would be funnier than watching that pretty little troop get torn limb from limb by a behemoth, but seeing how much they have survived so far it doesn't really surprise me. Besides…"

    His eyes didn't really change, but a dangerous flame flickered in the back of them.

 "… It seems like Gestahl won't let me enter the hunt in any case. So it wouldn't even be fun if they got caught now."

    Gogo clenched his teeth. Despite way better knowledge and a wave of worry from Siren, he couldn't keep his mouth shut this time.

 "You didn't use to be like that, Kef," he said, sternly.

    And it even surprised himself that he didn't regret speaking when it was too late.

    The chicken leg in Kefka's hand flipped through the air and somewhat neatly crashed on its plate as the man leaned back. The brothers watched each other. Not threatening, but challenging. 

    In her own silent mind, Siren wondered if her Returner friend was suicidal by nature. 

 "And what's it to you?" Kefka finally asked.

 "You are my brother after all."

    Gogo mimicked the memory of his mirror's movement and sent his own lunch to the plate as well. He felt more ready for defense when not holding a piece of food.

 "I'm only wondering, what made you become so bloodthirsty?" he dared. 

 'Eh, Gogo… careful!' Siren desperately warned.

 'God damn it, I can't take it anymore!' the mimic snarled back, 'that's _not_ my brother talking!'

 'You'll risk everything you've won back after less than 24 hours?'

    Gogo was about to reply, but Kefka cut him off.

 "People do change over twenty years, Kerr," he said, rather matter-of-factly.

 "Ah yes, of course," the mimic replied in the same sort of voice.

 "Besides, I've become insane along the way, what's there to say?"

 "You're not insane, Kefka."

 "Aren't I?"

    The man with the make-up bent forwards and hid his blood-red lips behind a loose fist as he chuckled, mocking modesty.

 "Oh forgive me for laughing," he snickered between the screeching noises, "but I'm pretty sure you're in minority with that opinion."

 "Says who?" Gogo pressed, frowning.

    He forced himself to remain still as Kefka suddenly stood and moved past the table. But the only thing that was anything similar to an attack… was a knocking on the feathered helmet.

 "_Heeello_, have you been inside of a giant worm for the last couple of decades?"

    The imperial lord met the glare with a cheeky grin.

 "Ah right, my bad. You have."

 "Kefka…" Gogo began, but fell silent when his brother waved his pointing finger from side to side, draping his cloak around himself in a fluid motion.

 "Listen here, bro, I _am_ a psychopath. So says I and the rest of the world. Didn't you listen to what the Returners said?"

    The mimic sighed and looked away, waving lightly with his hand. Frustrated and trying to hide it.

 "They didn't say that much about you actually," he muttered.

 "Ah, the refined types I see."

 "More or less."

    Gogo turned back and glared up at his brother again.

 "I didn't want to hear it from them and I definitely want to hear it from you, because I refuse to believe it."

 "Did you hear Gestahl call you a nostalgic fool, Kef? I guess me and him finally agree on something again."

    Chuckling Kefka retook his seat, without any signs of having noticed his slip of the tongue. Gogo tried not to watch him to intensively because of the mistake, hiding his new tension behind the irritation he had tried to fight back earlier.

 "Well anyway, I'm on a bit of a tight schedule here," the pale one said, waving the whole argument off, "eat up already."

 'I… think you can relax,' Siren mumbled, sounding somewhat surprised about what she was saying, 'I don't think he's going to think it over. Get his mind off it just in case, you never know.'

 'I'm glad that I have a spy like you,' Gogo said, half sincere and half bizarre.

 'Sure. I just wish you could be a little less self destructive,' she snorted while the mimic took his chicken leg back from the plate.

 "Fine, you win," Gogo said aloud, managing a smile.

    Kefka smirked, lightly triumphantly.

    The mimic let it be.


	13. Brothers

Chapter 13, Breakthrough

"Alright, it's eight o'clock," Strago announced, standing straight despite his hunger, "it must be dark out there now."

 "Very well."

    Setzer looked around at the assembled Returners; their exhausted eyes reflecting his own. It was more than anyone needed in order to come to a decision.

 "We're off then," the gambler said and turned to the wheel.

    He put his left hand on the steering circle and reached out his other hand for a black lever attached to the control panel, just to his right. The albino gambler closed his eyes and prayed to Fortuna that the engine would be strong and silent enough to bring them to safety. It seemed to be working, but had yet to prove it's reliability in flying again. 

    It had crashed once, though that hadn't been the engine's fault. It seemed like Darryl had been flying too low; low enough for some kind of monster to make a hole in the balloon, from the burn marks Setzer had gained it had been a fire-breather – or as he thought now, a magic user of some kind. Earlier he hadn't really believed in some monsters' natural powers. 

    Well, the damage was repaired, he had made sure of that before he had docked it in the grave. It had taken a short flight then, if it was suited for longtime flying again he had no idea.

 'Help us, Darryl…' he thought and pulled the lever.

    The engine growled as more power was asked of it, and complied. Setzer grinned despite his remaining worry and let go of the stick, slamming his hand onto a big red button on the panel before him. It engaged another mechanism, a temporary one that probably wouldn't be used ever again even if it outlived its purpose a second time. 

    A screeching was heard from ahead, alike the one that had been heard in the grave but louder. In the dimmed lights of the airship, the Returners watched as the wall before the nose of the Falcon moved; cracking up in two pieces that went in a direction each. Fresh air flowed into the cave like a stream of water over the desert, and the warriors took in heavy breaths of is as if the refreshing wind could cure all their ailments. Of course it couldn't, but it was quite a relief anyway.

 "Come on!" Setzer muttered, glaring at the gate that seemed to move with the speed of two sleepy snails. 

    Finally the moving and the screeching noise ceased, and the gambler wasted no time to give the engine the order to get it's real job done.

    The platform that the Falcon had been rested on creaked a little as the weight left it and the sudden pull of movement sent almost everyone to the deck in their weakened state. There was a snap from somewhere below as the cable going to the gate mechanism got stretched beyond its limits, accompanied by another twitch of the ship. The Falcon just swung lightly and went back in course however.

    And they moved. The airship had left its resting place and rose upwards in the huge cavern, following the careful commands of Setzer as he nervously switched the commands to confirm the route. He aimed well, then pushed at the wheel with all his force. 

    And the Falcon complied. It soared straight forwards, not even touching the cavern walls as it brushed by. 

    As soon as he knew that they were past the obstacle, Setzer hit another button and all the lights went out. The darkness enveloped the ship, silently promising all the safety it could offer. 

    After the first few moments of feeling its own force again, the engine also seemed to settle back and the drone turned softer. 

 "Any signs of the empire?" Setzer asked, glancing over his shoulder in the direction of his friends. 

    Shuffling noises spoke of strategic regrouping for lookouts, but even from the beginning there were carefully relived negative mutters. 

 "I can see some searchlights there over the land," Sabin reported, "they seem to be a few more than last night but they're not coming in this direction. They can hardly hear us from there either."

 "Good," Setzer sighed and looked at the sky. 

    The stars twinkled down at him, and he smiled. They would lead his way, as he had hoped. Perhaps any gods that were still watching the world had decided to turn to the side of good again, after all…

 "Alright everyone," the gambler grinned and turned the wheel lightly, "we're going to Figaro!"

    They would have cheered if they had had the strength, but the Returners settled back with relieved sighs. And it was enough. 

    They had made it out of the enemy country.

 "Nothing, nothing and nothing. Ha!"

    Kefka snickered and emptied his wineglass in one sweep. After coming back by dinner, he had removed all his makeup. Always something less unnatural…

 "I _was_ a little irritated about it earlier today, I admit," he chuckled at his mildly smiling brother, "but seeing Gestahl's frustration makes it all worthwhile."

 "I guess we're all happy then," Gogo commented.

 "Me, you and the Returners? Oh yeah. No, wait…"

    Kefka shook his head, but his smirk didn't go away.

 "That makes me be on their side, doesn't it?" he chuckled.

 "They'd drop dead if they heard you say that," the mimic said. 

    He found himself amused at the thought, which surprised him.

 'Shame on you,' Siren commented, but there was a bit of a chuckle in her voice as well.

 'Oxymorons are always funny, aren't they?'

 'I am forced to comply, despite the best intentions.'

 'Good to hear that you're feeling better.'

 'Terra and the others must have gotten away somehow, what else could I be?' she commented, smiling. 

 'Good point.'

    During that conversation, which had taken about two seconds, Kefka had been laughing. And he went on a bit further, as well. Gogo couldn't help but smile, though the sound was so screeching that it would have cut anyone's ears. The mimic just kept enjoying the harsh noise, as he had missed it for almost half his lifetime.

 "Now that was one of the more interesting ways of killing people…" the madman chuckled, "one I hadn't tried on them yet, too."

    Gogo's smile died.

 "Kef…" he started before considering it.

    A quick wave of a hand stopped him, accompanied with a pair of thinned, amused eyes.

 "I hear ya," Kefka smirked, soft as silk, "still not got enough proof?"

    Siren winced, though she hardly had grown any warmer feelings towards the madman she found Gogo's twisting denial painful. 

    He knew, he knew all too well from what little he had been forced to hear already, however he desperately refused to admit it as the truth. But his brother was a murderer. And not simply that, he was sadistic and gleeful as well.

 "I tried to kill you too, Kef," the madman said, and for every word the amusement seemed to twist between existence and nonexistence, "normally I would have laughed, but it was you."

    Gogo leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the table and entwining his fingers onto a platform which upon he rested his lips. 

 "I don't know whether to regard that as a good or bad sign, considering all," he finally muttered without looking up.

 "You lived."

    The voice was unreadable.

 'He did it again,' he thought, idly somehow, 'called me Kef.'

 'Gogo…'

    The mimic closed his eyes.

 'Is he noticing it?'

 '… I can't say yet,' Siren cautiously said. 

    Gogo took in a deep breath.

 'I'm sorry, Siren. I'm going to try.'

    At first she seemed about to hiss. Then she calmed. Somewhat.

 'You're crazy. But I can't stop you.'

 'Can he become more ready?'

 'Possibly. But you can't.'

 'Correct.'

 'Bahamut be with us.'

 'Yes… if he's on my side as well.'

 'I dearly hope so.'

 "Brother, how come?" Gogo said aloud.

 "What?" Kefka grunted, putting the empty glass on the table where the mimic's drink already stood.

    The helmeted man finally looked up, seeing another flicker in his brother's eyes. Something was happening, but even the sparkles seemed indecisive of their meaning and of what had triggered them. 

    Perhaps the fact that Kefka had admitted wanting to kill his twin again. That was the one thing he hadn't been talking about earlier. 

 "Why did Kefka become a murderer?" Gogo pressed, narrowing his eyes.

    In a battle he couldn't stand against his brother, that was already proven. At least not a magic battle. But there are other ways to fight than with violence.

    For a moment Kefka just glared.

 "What's that supposed to mean?" he finally growled.

    It had nothing to do with the question about killing, Gogo knew. What his brother _really_ said – just not aloud – was: 

 "What do you mean, 'why did _Kefka_ become a murderer'?"

    For it was also the first time that Gogo more or less indirectly questioned his and his brother's identities ever since the peace treaty. 

 "You are my brother. I care about you. And I want to know what made you become what you are now," the mimic stated, not removing his gaze from Kefka's.

    He kept the eyes locked, even if the fire in those that he watched flickered dangerously for a moment.

    The flames settled back as Kefka snorted. 

 "What made me like this?" he snapped, "what _didn't_ make _you_ like this, bro?"

    Gogo blinked, not sure what to answer to that, not sure what his brother meant. The surprise was apparently quite obvious since Kefka picked up again:

 "Hiding in a zone eater for twenty years, why aren't _you_ mad?"

    Instead of meeting the irritation with more of its kin Gogo just wisely shook his head, as calm as he could though he was quite tense.

 "Good question," he murmured.

 "Really good question!" Kefka spat and stood, starting to pace over the mat, "I'll tell you what, bro, you are crazy as well, just not the way I am!"

 "How so?"

    Gogo bit his lower lip.

 'Siren, he's acting like Kerr now…'

 'I don't really see any difference,' the esper nervously mumbled.

 'No, you don't know him of course. But that pacing, and listen to him. He's not talking, he's ranting.'

 'He might snap, Gogo. Can you hold him back somehow?'

    But she already knew the answer.

 'Afraid not.'

 "How so, you say?" Kefka scowled, "coming here to confront _me_, isn't that proof enough?!"

    Siren bit her lower lip. Well, so to speak.

 'I should have made a link…' she thought to herself, unwilling to present her friend with the lost possibility.

    The truth was that she might have been able to stop Kefka, had she only made preparations. But the mere thought had abhorred her, and she had dismissed it as unneeded. Despite the fact that she deep down had felt that it might come to something like this.

    Had she only made Gogo touch his brother with Siren's magicite – without the madman noticing it of course – then the esper would have been able to create a connection somewhat alike the one she used when teaching her carriers of her magic. But the link to Kefka wouldn't have been made for learning, but for restraining. 

    It was risky, even with a sane person she had never tried it. And she would have to dive into her hated enemy's mind to do what needed to be done. It was no task she felt any desire for.

    Besides, rendering Kefka comatose for a short period of time would solve very little, she feared. No matter how relieving it might feel.

    And it was too late now, she could do naught but watch.

    Watch Kefka furiously pace, Gogo looking at him and trying to keep his worry at bay. 

 "Good point," the mimic carefully murmured, "I'm bound to agree."

 "Good!" 

    The imperial lord didn't slow down for a second, at times having his back turned at his brother, then facing him, moving all the while.

 "You agree, don't you? _You_ do! You of all blasted people!"

 "Who else?" Gogo whispered, but he hardly heard himself. 

    Either Kefka didn't hear, or he didn't care. The first was more likely.

 "Did you think it was easy? That I liked it?" he growled as he marched at Gogo again, then turning as he continued, "it was the madness! I was mad all along, don't you see? You're just _slower_! It's better than having to think all the time, it makes my head hurt!" 

 "Bro…"

 "I hated you, you know! Your stupid fairytales and your discoveries… me, envious?"

    Gogo had known it to be true, but it still stung. He was still surprised when his brother's eyes were hidden behind his hand when he turned back once more, however. The gesture puzzled Siren quite a bit as well.

    The pain and surprise halted the realization for a moment longer. Then it slammed down.

    Gogo's eyebrows twitched and his eyes widened slightly as it hit him.

 'By Goddess…' Siren whispered.

 "Brother…" the mimic hoarsely said, standing.

    The madman didn't seem to hear him.

 "Why wouldn't we go mad? Did you feel it? No! It's a lie! All a lie!"

    He glared briefly at Gogo as he brushed past, grabbing the empty wineglass in a fluid motion.

 "Just a lie! It's nothing!"

    The glass shattered against the transparent wall, the tiny drop that had been left surely spreading helplessly as well.

    The raging man stopped in the middle of the room, his back at Gogo as he furiously rubbed his temples. 

 "It's just a lie… I don't!" he growled. 

 "Brother!" Gogo tried once again, more forcefully this time. 

    Hands were pressed against the pale face and its grimace.

 "I hate you… damn, I'm talking too much!" Kefka harshly snarled, "it's not… working out…"

 'Gogo, something is wrong!' Siren called, frowning.

    Before the mimic had time to answer either of them, his brother let the hands move away a little, but still kept them at the level of his face as he turned to Gogo. He still looked angry, but it was mixed with confusion again.

 "It's not working out…" he muttered, frowning.

    Gogo opened his mouth to speak. But his brother acted too quickly again.

 "God… my head…" 

    With a groan lord Kefka fell to the floor, pressing one hand against his eyes. 

    Afterwards Gogo couldn't remember the few steps bringing him to his brother, neither how he fell to his knees and carefully lifted his twin's head into his lap.

 "It's not working out, I'm talking too much…" Kefka mumbled with a slight slurring, his eyes trying to focus on his brother's face, "you are Kerr, aren't you? Then why am _I_ babbling?"

    Siren "held" her breath.

    Gogo on the other hand didn't seem to think at all. Instead he just acted, without any consideration. His brother's hands had fallen limp, and the mimic gently massaged Kefka's forehead as he understood it hurt for one reason or another.

 "Yes, it really isn't working out," the mimic gently said, "but you know, I think you've got a lot more to say. After all, I've been hiding inside of a giant worm for twenty years, there's not much to tell about that. So…" 

    This was it…

 "… Why don't we _pretend_ that it's the other way around?"

 "Whaz…?" Kefka murmured, his eyes starting to focus a little again however.

 "I mean," Gogo said with a careful smile and removed his hand, "since you have much more to tell me, you can be Kerr and babble, and I'll listen. How about that, bro?"

    The fallen brother's eyes finally focused and he blinked a couple of times, still looking confused.

 "Feeling any better?" the mimic asked. 

 "Yeah…"

    Slowly Kefka sat up and turned to his brother, rubbing his forehead by own force. Not as furiously as earlier though. Gogo said nothing, waiting.

 "What did you say…?" the dizzier one muttered.

 "I was wondering if you'd like to be Kerr, just for now," the mimic said, carefully this time.

    Kefka stopped rubbing his head and looked up at his brother's face. 

    Gogo looked back, deep within surprised about how calm he felt. 

    Kefka took in a deep breath, shaking his head as he let it out.

 "There's… been a lot happening, Kefka," he finally murmured. 

    Gogo smiled and held out a hand as he stood.

 "Really? Well, you'll just have to tell me about it, I've really missed hearing your ramblings, bro."

    Another hand took the one that had reached out, and its owner looked up. His lips twitched a little. 

 "I've missed having you listening, I have to admit that," Kerr said. 


	14. Plot is in the air

Chapter 14, More twists

"How can it be so goddamn cold in a desert?" Relm grunted, draping her worn robe tighter around her shoulders as the Falcon neared the ground.

"I'm sure there's somebody who can explain about the sunrays, sky and the planets' placements," Sabin commented with a faint smile, "but I don't bother."

"It's hot and cold, but it's home," Edgar said, sighing deeply with relief.

They had made it… now they only had to gain contact with Figaro castle. The night still shrouded them safely, even if morning now was approaching.

"The empire patrolled the desert for a while after the Floating Continent, trying to catch us," the king told the troop that once again had assembled on the deck, "but it was too hard work, and they soon understood that we weren't stupid enough to come up just like that."

"Then how will we reach the people of Figaro?" Cyan wondered just as a soft bump announced the landing.

"We'll just have to search a little. Like this…"

Edgar cupped his hands around his lips and let out a howl, imitating the hollow call of the Figaro desert wolf. As the sound died away, he held up his hand and slowly waved the fingers at a steady pace, signaling that he was counting seconds.

As about fifteen short moments had passed, the king once again howled. He repeated this a third time and they waited. Finally Edgar shook his head.

"Not here. We'll have to keep looking."

There was a groan.

"However," the king hurriedly added, smiling, "we might be able to find something to eat in this area."

"What, rocks and sand?" Celes dryly said, their situation taking its toll on everything gentle in her mind.

"No, cacti."

Silence.

"Hey, it's better than you might think, if you pick the right ones," Sabin finally defended his brother, "let us down, Setzer."

Without any real trust in the idea the gambler pulled a lever, which promptly released the gangway down to the ground.

"Light please," the prince said as he calmly walked down to the ocean of sand.

Shrugging off the hesitance Terra followed him, lighting a flame in her palm. On a silent agreement Setzer still kept the lights of the Falcon at a minimum even if they probably were out of the most hostile enemy territory. You never knew, after all. Attracting monster wasn't a nice thought either.

Gau and Clyde joined the search, Interceptor following his companion though even the giant dog was showing signs of exhaust.

Of course, sand wasn't the only thing in the desert, those who had visited Figaro castle already knew that. The "kingdom" – so to speak – was placed in a more humid area of the region, where several oasis's could be found and the underground streams keeping them alive allowed sturdy plants to grow.

No luck with any oasis right then and there, however Sabin quickly found a tall cactus with several branches stubbornly pointing at the night sky.

"This one looks good."

The "aerobics instructor" reached up and quickly twisted several of the big needles off the nearest, thick branch, just enough for him to be able to get a safe grip of it.

Clyde caught on and walked closer to the plant while brandishing his dagger. It took him a few moments to saw his way through the thick peel of the cactus, but as he penetrated the layer it got much easier and soon Sabin could break off the branch. He carefully handed the item to Gau, who hurried back to the Falcon while the two men took on another part of the cactus, in the light of Terra's magic.

When the three humans and the dog boarded the ship with the second part of the simple midnight snack they found that Setzer had managed to find a collection of dinner plates somewhere within the Falcon, along with a cutting board. Generous slices of the cactus was handed out to the Returners, and when smelling the sweet scent of the juicy pulp none could bear to protest anymore. Hungrily everyone dug in, eating the slices like they would do with watermelon. The taste of the cactus was not that far off either, though a little tangier.

Even Interceptor was too hungry and thirsty to bother about the fact that dogs don't eat fruit, gobbling down the cubes of cacti flesh that Clyde cut up for him.

"Well, that was weird," Setzer finally chuckled with a content sigh, pushing his plate away.

The branches had been big, but another trip down to the ground had been needed for all to be satisfied.

"I have a feeling this was not the strangest thing we'll have to do during this journey," Locke commented with a smile, unknowingly showing proof of excellent skills in making prophesies.

Standing up from the deck, the gambler looked down at his hands and tried to lick the worst juice off his fingers.

"I guess we could find some towels or something," Strago helpfully commented and stood as well, heading for the entrance of the ship's bowels.

"Good idea."

Setzer turned around and pushed the famous black lever by using the back of his hand. No use wasting time waiting.

"Where to, Edgar?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Try the southwest," the king said, "we never wanted to come too close to Narshe after that became occupied."

"Alright, here we go!"

The wheel was turned, albeit a bit clumsily since Setzer insisted on not getting cacti juice on it, thus using the sides and backs of his arms.

And they were off again, on the valiant search for a hidden castle.

Darkness filled the room, but Gogo didn't lie down on the sofa to sleep. He was sitting on the furniture, slumping with his face resting in his hands.

Yes, he had his brother back and Kerr had actually not stumbled even once in the new setting. It seemed like his unstable state had been caused by the denied knowledge that he wasn't really Kefka, and as he accepted it he lost the unbalance of his twisted mind. He was on safer ground, and that was all well.

To once again talk to his brother and know that he was truly there again had been a relief beyond compare for the mimic. However… a lot of things that had been said was haunting his mind.

Yes, he had known of the horrors. Siren hadn't left him any doubt even if his Returner friends had been modest during their short time together. But they hadn't known much, it seemed. Luckily.

The only comfort was that Kerr's voice turned slightly monotone whenever he spoke of his crimes, and he didn't laugh even if he had said things like "funny, that time…". He didn't seem very comfortable admitting some things to his brother, strange as it would seem.

Perhaps it was the simple fact that he had forgotten how it was to have someone truly listening. Kerr couldn't babble on senselessly, somewhere knowing that the other man just wanted him to shut up. Gogo was watching him intently all the time. Maybe it made him apprehensive… after all he was also used to people already knowing what he had done. His brother forced him to explain his actions.

And then it got complicated.

Gogo only hoped that he could mask the worst abhorrence when he listened.

'Dear goddesses, what happened to you, brother?' he bitterly thought, alone in the silent darkness.

'Gogo…'

Siren spoke slowly, hesitant.

'Hmm?' he thought, distraught as he already was.

'Listen, I… I don't think you're going to like this.'

The mimic frowned.

'What is it?'

The esper was silent for a moment. Then she sighed.

'Alright, to get things straight I have no choice but to take a safety precaution I should have made earlier. Kef… Kerr is sound asleep, if you move quietly you can get my magicite without him waking up.'

Gogo stood instinctively, then he stopped.

'What's wrong?' he suspiciously said.

'I'm going to make an anchor in his mind,' Siren reluctantly said, 'then I can maybe paralyze him if he should snap again. Just to make sure.'

'You're not going to hurt him, are you?' Gogo accused, absolutely not sure if he liked the sound of the idea.

She sighed and mentally shook her head.

'As much as I want to, my powers aren't destructive. I am a mind esper.'

'And that cannot cause harm?'

She was silent for another few moments.

'Gogo, it's not just that,' she finally said.

He frowned.

'Then what?'

She bit her lower lip.

'Alright, this is the part you _really_ won't like.'

Out of habit she took in a deep breath to calm.

'I am a mind esper, as I said. From here I can't make a good judgment, but I'm not blind either. As you noticed I was silent after Kerr collapsed earlier.'

Gogo tried to remember. Yes, that was true. But he hadn't been thinking about it, becoming too absorbed in his brother's words.

'What is it?' he asked, worriedly.

Siren clenched her teeth.

'I never took a closer look earlier, but it screamed at me when he had the breakdown. To make sure my magicite will have to touch him, but… Gogo, I don't think his madness is natural.'

The mimic blinked, staring in the direction of the magicite. It was too dark for him to see it properly, but there was a tiny, nervous glow coming from the floor under the closet.

'What are you saying?' he demanded, much harsher than he had planned.

'It hasn't grown from his mind only,' Siren grimly clarified, 'it might have started there but I can see that something is wrong. There's something coaxing his insanity.'


	15. everytime I look around

Chapter 15, Siren's dilemma

'_WHAT_?!'

    Gogo's silent roar nearly sent Siren crashing into a mental wall, and she needed a few second to collect herself from the shock of his fury. It was obvious that he had used all self-control he had to keep himself from screaming loudly – especially as his breath came out in gasps, each one of them carrying a small bit of a broken word. The time Siren used to refocus, Gogo spent by expressing his set of mind within his thoughts.

 'What… who would… why?! The hell? What are you saying?! Siren!'

    On and on with small variations. Finally the esper regained her composure and quickly let a few notes of her harp float into the mimic's mind to calm him.

    Slowly Gogo's breathing became normal and he took in a few breaths.

 'Alright, alright… I'm fine. Sorry about that outburst but what the hell are you saying?' he thought, a growl returning to his thoughts at the end of the sentence.

    Siren sighed.

 'I'm not sure, but I can guarantee you that it wasn't the first time he got that dizzy. You saw that he was about to explode, and he could have gone ballistic instead of falling. Might be the lack of sleep, I don't know. Either that or…'

    She grimaced.

 'He doesn't want to kill me?' Gogo finally suggested after a pause.

 'I doubt that he even knows what he wants. In any case…'

    Unknown to the mimic, the esper's own mind raced with doubts and self-disgust.

 'What in Doom's name am I _doing_?!'

    Why would she force herself to enter the mind of the madman, now that he appeared less unstable? She wasn't blind as she had said, she knew what she was doing. Kerr might have momentarily thought that taking up his real name was just a show, but by the time he went to sleep he had begun to accept it.

    No telling when he would break again, of course. But the danger had shrunk, and still Siren felt just as worried about not having the means to hold him back.

    Hold him back?

    She could have laughed like a madman herself. 

    It was that… fault – in lack of a better word – she had seen as he broke down. Staring at his mind from her current situation was like watching a distant dancer through a stained glass, but she had clearly seen something that reminded of tiny red lightning bolts in the twisting cloud. It hadn't been a natural part of the man's inner life. 

    So, getting to the point. The idea of the link _was_ still a matter of preserving Gogo's and her own safety, but whatever Siren had seen boggled her mind. She was an esper who had mastered mind magic, things that could bring peace or drive someone to confusion and hallucinations. She knew madness, but whatever Kerr was under was not a natural case.

    And she wanted to know what it was.

    Wanting to know what a thing is means understanding it. 

    And why understand something?

    To see what can be done about it.

    Had Siren still owned a stomach, she would have gone to worship a bucket when reaching the end of the thought chain.

 'I'm bloody _NOT_ going to _help_ that _bastard_!' she reprimanded herself, in the same voice that she would have used if she'd been fighting one of the eight ancient dragons single-handedly. 

    Just finding out what it was.

    Yeah.

    But no matter what she told herself, she was all too aware that once she knew… she might as well know the cure too.

    That was definitely something that Gogo wouldn't know about. There were limits to what her contract stated.

 'Siren, can you hear me?' the mimic called, snapping her out of her thoughts.

 'Eh?'

 'You were saying "in any case" then fell silent,' he said, concerned.

 'Yes, sorry about that. I went down the worry lane.'

 'Why, would it be dangerous for you or him?'

    Siren quickly shook her head.

 'No, I promise. I already said I wouldn't hurt him and I won't, I swear. The worst case scenario would be that he senses me and gets itchy, but that's only if I'm clumsy.'

    He still didn't move.

 'Please Gogo, it's just a safety precaution,' the esper assured, 'his mind seems to have settled right now, but there's no guarantee it'll last. The only thing I'll be able to do to him would be too make him fall asleep or loose consciousness so that he can cool off in a case of danger.'

 'Hm.'

    Gogo frowned in the darkness.

 'But if you could do that, why haven't you or other espers tried to do it earlier? He would have needed it… quite a few times.'

    The words brought back his almost forgotten bitterness from earlier.

 'Why didn't you stop him?'

    Siren sadly shook her head.

 'Even if in a daze of insanity, he has always been fully aware when touching magicite before. I need to set things up while he can't notice me.'

 'Promise again that you won't hurt him,' Gogo sternly said.

    In her state of aggravation and doubtfulness, Siren had a hard time finding the worry for a brother touching. But she forced herself not to let it show. She couldn't afford to risk the mimic's trust in her, as he was her only chance to ever get out of the whole mess and the single friend she had in the snake pit.

 'I promise, Gogo,' she said, surprising herself with the patient tone, 'I swear by Bahamut, the lord of espers.'

    He hesitated for a moment longer, then he began crossing the floor. The carpet helped to kill all sound of the careful footsteps, and the whispering of Kerr's calm breathing didn't change.

    The mimic had to lie down on the floor to reach below the wardrobe, and still it wasn't easy to reach the magic stone. He had managed to bring Siren as far in as possible, which was good in the safety case. Right then it was a nuisance, but eventually he came out victorious.

 'Alright, now what?' he whispered, almost holding his mental breath as well.

 'I ah…' 

    Siren pulled a violent face at the words she had to speak.

 'Erk, my magicite needs to touch his skin, hand would be the best I guess,' she grunted.

    Had he not been so nervous, Gogo might have mildly chuckled at the tone of her voice. He completely refrained from commenting as he sneaked closer to his brother's bed. The light from the magicite in his hand was hardly worth mentioning, only a tiny sparkle.

    Still the light was eerily shed over the pale face, peaceful in the sleep.

    Gogo pursed his lips, glancing at Kerr.

    He looked so innocent, childlike when it was free of that stupid makeup and the smirk.

    But considering all, were the crèmes he hid behind or those peaceful features the true mask?

    Neither?

    The mimic shrugged the musings off and turned back to the present, nervously moving his grip until the light found a motionless hand resting on the blanket.

    Kerr still slept soundly. 

    Clenching his teeth Gogo moved Siren closer, she about to break by the tension herself. The mimic's hand shivered slightly as it neared the other fingers.

    Holding his breath the sane brother brushed the magic rock against the still palm, as light as a feather's fall. He quickly withdrew and took a step backwards as Kerr muttered something in his sleep and turned over. Luckily the touched hand didn't bump into the green rock.

 'We did it!' Siren sighed, more distant than usual, 'he won't wake up, you can relax.'

 'Will you be alright?' Gogo asked, carefully.

 'Don't worry about me,' she replied, smiling slightly of relief, 'his mind is relaxed when he's asleep, he won't feel a thing. You should just try to calm down, we both need that. I'll tell you if I find anything as soon as possible.'

 'I'll try.'

    Gogo stood hesitant by the bed for a few seconds longer, but Kerr showed no signs of being uneasy or in pain. Releasing the breath he had held the mimic turned and carefully found his way back to the wardrobe by memory only, searching in the darkness for the wood and the area below it. 

    When he had made sure the magicite was hidden again he went onto the next adventure; to get back to the collection of soft furniture without crashing into it or the wall.

    It took him a minute or so since he was moving very cautiously, but in the end his fumbling hands found the outer armchair and from that he easily found the sofa. With no other options available he sat down and waited.

    Meanwhile, Siren was trying to cope with what she found, and what it made her feel.

    Silent minutes passed. Gogo waited, and the esper rushed through the tangled mess of the settled, sleeping mind as quickly as she dared.

    It was the same everywhere.

    She had been right, it wasn't natural. Well, perhaps to an extent, but that had been a small one.

    It disgusted her.

    Just to make sure she took a look at what actually was Kerr's brain, not expecting anything else than what she already had seen. After all, what actually generated thoughts and feelings is very much the same as what people call the "mind".

    Yes… it was there too.

    She sighed.

    This wasn't how it should have been.

    He should be a demon in a human guise, the ultimate personification of chaotic evil and carnage.

    And Kerr was, in truth he was.

    But it wasn't his fault.

    Letting out a slow, mental breath Siren clutched her harp and reached for the golden strings. 

 "You damn bastard…" she growled and ran her fingertips over the tense threads, creating a simple melody.

    The music was faintly visible in this strange "world", silvery threads melting into the unstructured mist around the esper. Everything that was touched by the tones glowed faintly, and Kerr muttered something again as Siren for a moment stood in a shimmering cloud of music.

    She pursed her mouth as it faded. The anchor was created, but despite her earlier resolve there was a remaining dilemma. It had seemed simpler when she didn't really believe in it to the fullest. 

    Yes, it was apparent that she could do something about what she saw, she could feel that as she played.

    But she'd be damned if she did.

    Hell no.

 'You and your sick, twisted soul can rot away for all I care!' she furiously thought and leaped out with a shudder of relief. 

    A great weight fell off her as she managed to reach the outside of Kerr's head. Good. Next problem…

    She looked towards Gogo, clenching her teeth.

    He was slumping again, cheeks in hands and fingertips worriedly drumming against his temples as he stared into the darkness, towards his brother. 

    How do you lie to someone like him?

    Siren sighed and dove forwards. The only thing to do was to get it done.

 'Done,' she announced, as gentle as possible.

 'What did you find?' he lashed out, almost violently in his worry.

    Again the esper was taken slightly aback by the honest care for Kerr. In that moment she dearly wondered if she'd _ever_ get used to the bizarre oxymoron.

    Looking back at all these events years later, the esper would never be able to stop herself from chuckling ironically. As for right then and there however…

 'I was right,' she grimly said as she found no way around it, 'how can I explain it… there is… well, the best way I explain it is saying that there's mould in Kerr's mind.'

    Gogo was silent for a moment. And when he spoke to her again, it was with great disbelief.

 '_"Mould"_?'

     The esper sighed.

 'From within a mind "looks" sort of like a very misty and strange forest when it's settled in sleep,' she explained, 'I can't tell how it looks when he's awake so we'll work with that. To put it simply the mist is emotions and the irregular, swirling branches are resting thoughts, are you following?'

    Slowly Gogo nodded, silently.

 'Alright,' Siren continued, 'now, a normal mind is just clean, even if things often are confusing. An insane mind, a "normally" insane one, is a worse mess than that. It's almost impossible to get through. Now Kerr's mind… it's a little warped, so I think perhaps he was a little bit insane, nothing dangerous though.'

    She pursed her mouth again.

 'But there is… mould, as I said. Stains growing on the branches and things like spider webs in the mist. It's not natural, but I don't know what's causing it. Doesn't look like magic, I haven't seen it before.'

    The mimic had closed his eyes somewhere halfway through Siren's explanation. The esper watched him as she finished, clenching her teeth.

    She knew he would ask.

 'Is there anything you can do?'

 '_NO_!' she wanted to snarl.

    But the despair in his voice, tainted with anger as it was screamed as loud as her rage, reaching for her gentle mind. 

    But it was still _Kefka_ they were talking about!

 'I… don't know,' she heard herself mutter.

    A mediocre, bitter smile touched Gogo's lips as he bowed his head lightly.

 'I somehow knew you'd say that,' he thought in a low manner, 'though I don't know if I trust you this time.'

    It was a slap in her face.

 'Gogo…' Siren began in a weak protest, thrown off balance by his sharp-sightedness.

    He held up a hand and waved it slightly, dismissing. Still he didn't look up.

 'Look, I understand that you wouldn't be caught dead doing anything for him,' he muttered, 'but if you can, please.'

    It was pathetic. There was no force in the plea, it came out as a mental sigh. No hope in it, and wearing no shrouding veils of dreams it was nothing but helpless.

    Siren knew Shiva would shriek and trample the prayer to dust in fury, goddesses knew what Maduin would do and even the gentle Seraphim would turn away in disgust.

    But the slumping man carried the entire guilt that his brother and Gestahl should be the ones to feel, even if he hadn't known what would happen he kept blaming himself for the entire mess. Kerr had tried to kill him more than once but Gogo _still_ couldn't hate him. In fact, deep down he blamed himself for that too, for not being able to save his twin from the insanity.

 'And why must _I_ be the one to see that?!' Siren snarled to herself only in frustration, '_oh_!'

    Gogo was silent, waiting for her to reply. His hand had fallen back into his lap, the fingers intertwined but now frozen. And still he hadn't looked up.

    The esper gritted her mental teeth.

 'Bloody pathetic, foolish, damn _mortal_! I _won't, can't do it_!'

    That was what she wanted to scream at him. Not until later did she realize that the only way she would have been able to do so would have required looking in another direction. One didn't have to be a mind esper to read the surrender in Gogo's whole being; he had already accepted a no and was bracing himself to hear it. 

 'Poltergeist take you,' Siren thought in rage.

 'I'll be the judge of whether "please" is appropriate, but I'll have to know what's causing the distortion,' Siren said in defeat. 

    Gogo quite literally jumped and opened his mouth before even a thought could form.

 'And if you thank me I swear I'll rip out your liver through your mouth,' the esper interrupted in a much stricter voice, 'I'm not doing this to be nice. The others will tear me to pieces if they find out.'

    There was a brief silence.

 'You need an alibi?' the mimic finally thought, in a rather strange voice.

    It was quite obvious that he had a hard time getting all his emotions under control.

    Siren leaned her forehead in her hand, rubbing her hair as she did so. 

 'For myself too, mind you.'

    She sighed.

 'I have no damn reason to lift a finger to his aid, and I'm not going to outright help him.'

    Straightening up she pursed her mouth.

 'But if he's at least fairly sane I _can_ bring him to justice,' she growled.

    Gogo sighed.

 'Ah.'

    Looking down at him again the esper sighed deeply.

 'Listen, espers aren't as cruel as humans but we're not fond of him either. There are however things that does speak for his cause, I guess.'

    She added the last sentence in a reluctantly softer tone.

 'And what would that be?' Gogo asked, watching his hands.

    Siren rolled her eyes but gave in and listed what she could find for the madman's defense.

 'First, Gestahl is the one who started it all, and Kerr is working for him. Second, whatever it is that's causing the "mould" is important, but we'll have to find it. Third, your views will most probably be accounted for.'

    She massaged her forehead and pulled a face at what she had just done, what she was going to do in the near future.

 'And against him, we have him,' she added to get herself straight.

    Gogo buried his face in his hands.

 'Fabulous. Just fabulous.'

    He straightened up and glared at the darkness.

 'But it wasn't he who found the way to the esper world or lead the expedition!' he growled.

 'I know Gogo, and the rest of the espers too. Kerr is just a pawn but he _has_ been torturing us the most, even if Gestahl has been the puppet master.'

    She sighed, to herself wondering what the hell she was saying.

 'Listen to me, Kerr would not survive a human trial, and probably not an esper one either. However, when standing beside Gestahl he does have a chance.'

    Falling silent she shook her head before she continued:

 'But I'm crazy and illogical even thinking these things and we both know it. What we need to focus on is to get out of here alive, not something that'll probably never happen. I won't let Kerr kill you now and he won't find me either, but we're not safe here.'

 'I know…' Gogo sighed and glanced in his brother's direction, 'I know. But there's hope. You can't deny it.'

    Siren wrestled the words for a moment before she had to, once again, surrender to another version of the truth.

 'I have to agree, my friend,' she reluctantly admitted, 'but even though he's on your side, somewhat, he's not on anyone else's. And I highly doubt that he'll have much to do with whether you live or die should you be found here.'

 'The room is protected,' Gogo pointed out in protest, frowning.

 'But we're imprisoned here, there's no denying that either.'

    She held up her hands as the mimic was about to start again.

 'I know, I know. But let's leave it for now, alright? Creating that anchor was tiring and you're exhausted as well.'

 'Siren…'

    Gogo fell silent and nodded, understanding that she really didn't want to keep talking about it. Whether that was only dependant on her being tired, that was another issue.

 'I understand,' the mimic nodded, 'we'll try to sort things out tomorrow.'

 'Will take more than tomorrow to get this damn mess sorted out…' the esper muttered as she started to withdraw.

 'And…' 

    The man in the more yellow robes gave a careful, faint smile.

 'I won't say thank you since you didn't want to hear it, but I'll say that I'm grateful.'

    Siren shook her head and sighed.

 'It's on the borderline, but I'll let it pass.'

    She tried to smile a little not to seem too harsh, failing miserably. With no other options she used her harp to make it easier for Gogo to fall asleep, finally leaving her alone.

    As she drifted back towards her magicite she threw a bitter glance at the man in the center of the net. Now he was perfectly visible to her, body and mind at the same time.

    Erk.

 'I was defending him.'

    Back in her rock she curled up, hugging her harp like a lifeline and resting her face in her hand. 

 'What the hell am I doing… Gogo must be contagious.'

    She shook her head again, trying to free herself from the thoughts invading her mind.

 'By Goddess, the others are going to kill me. Again. And then they're going to have lord Phoenix resurrect me so that they can start all over. I need to talk to the elder and try to get this mess sorted out.'

    But how to reach into the esper world, she couldn't even reach Maduin and the others that had been saved from the chaos. Not without help, much more help than Gogo could provide.

    Perhaps one of her friends in the esper facility was strong enough, but she wouldn't even go there if she could. The only way she'd be able to move around in the palace would be hanging on to the anchor in Kerr, but he'd notice her if she made a mental call. And Gogo wasn't going anywhere. 

    Sighing she tried to shut her own mind down, to little avail. It took her hours to fall asleep, fearing whatever the future had in store for her.

    But very few of her thousand qualms came even close to the truth.  

The sun rose above the desert of Figaro, slowly but steadily setting the sand on fire. 

    On the bridge of the world's last airship stood a young boy with long, blond hair tumbling down his back. By the wheel stood another blond man, his unruly and dirty hair lacking its normal ribbon and silky look. He wore a pair of tattered pants and long a dark jacket, which wasn't in any better shape than the pants. One hand was on the wheel, the other was rubbing his eyes in a desperate attempt to stay awake.

    Apart from Gau and Edgar, the deck was empty. 

    The lawless king put both hands on the wheel and carefully made the Falcon move closer to the ground. Upon a nod from his older friend, Gau let out a now somewhat hoarse howl. Edgar's voice had given up almost two hours ago, and the wild boy had taken his place. Everyone else had taken the wise decision to go to sleep, but somebody had to keep looking.

    The sound of the howl faded, and they waited. Again the boy called out, but his voice had started to fade in both force and hope.

    But as the second signal began to die, Gau suddenly grabbed the railing and started jumping up and down in excitement despite his fatigue. Edgar blinked and hit the brakes, leaving the ship floating as still as the winds allowed as he hurried over to his young friend.

    The sand below them was moving, and to the tired eyes looking like a lotus flower rising from the mud, Figaro castle emerged from the desert.

    Edgar grabbed on to the railing as all the strain left him and he slumped to the deck, choking out mixtures of laughter and sobs with every breath.

 "Egaarrr?" Gau whimpered in alarm, falling down beside him.

 "I'm… fine…"

    The king tried to straighten up, not ashamed of the relieved tears forming in his eyes.

 "We made it, Gau… wake the others. We're safe…"

    He turned to the lightly confused boy and gently grabbed Gau's arm, smiling and shaking his head to calm the young one.

 "Don't worry, I'm fine," Edgar assured in a somewhat better voice, "it's just been so much happening lately. But we're going to make it, I know it!"

 "Yeah!" Gau grinned, carefully – for him – touching the king's shoulder before he ran off to wake everyone else up.

    Edgar straightened up and stumbled back towards the wheel to land. As he felt right then he could have grown wings of his own to fly down to his waiting home. 

    They had made it. 


	16. Insects are warriors too

Chapter 16, Rise the curtain

It was four am in the morning, but the guards on duty had heard the call. Hardly daring to hope, not after all that had been happening, they had gone to ask for ascending.

    The chancellor had not been happy to be awakened at such a heretical time of the "day", but when hearing what he was called for he had ordered the movement of the castle immediately.

    Had Edgar not stumbled down the gangway by own force – if on insecure legs – then the ship would have been boarded by the few inhabitants of the castle that had woken up. There were only half a dozen at first, but as somebody rushed back in to announce the news in a very loud voice, people streamed outside.

    Edgar was literally being buried alive in his subjects, who were nearing ecstasy of joy of having him back. It was amazing that the desert didn't explode with budding flowers due to the pure happiness filling the air. 

 "Well isn't he the popular one?" Locke chuckled, standing on a safe distance on the Falcon's deck, "I don't remember them being that euphoric before…"

 "Well, he's been gone for a few days, they tend to get itchy…" Sabin snickered. 

    His smirk died as somebody down in the mass shouted his name, turning a good deal of the crowd towards the Falcon.

 "Aww damn…"

 "Better go down there in order to save the rest of us from being killed by the mob," Terra calmly concluded and gave the body-builder a light shove towards the gangway.

 "Traitor…" Sabin muttered but did as he was told, quickly reaching the ground. And being buried.

    He moved through the somewhat gentle hugs and pressings of his hands until he reached his brother in the middle of the chaos. Edgar was smiling tiredly but with genuine happiness, trying to greet and calm ten cheering people at the same time.

 "Well aren't we enjoying this?" Sabin mildly muttered, teasingly.

    Edgar tried to reply, when a woman his brother clearly remembered as a priestess threw herself around his neck. 

 'Yes, he sure is…' the prince somewhat dryly thought, but with fondness, 'and he damn well deserves it.'

    The king smiled, not a triumphant or flirting smile, but just joyfully and hugged the woman back. His expression didn't change when she moved off and immediately was replaced with another lady.

 "Your Majesty!"

    Edgar let go of the latest woman expressing her happiness to see him and took the chancellor's hands as the man finally made his way back to the middle. He had been among the first to greet the returned king, but had then been pushed away.

 "How did you escape?" the older man eagerly asked once more, as he had done earlier without being allowed the time to hear the reply.

 "The Returners…" Edgar smiled, rather out of breath.

    He glanced over his shoulder at the Falcon and the smiling faces looking down at him. This helped him to somewhat regain his composure with the new strength his people had given him. 

 "We better try to sort things out, this isn't safe," he stated in a more collected voice, "Gestahl is still a threat and we don't know when they'll call off the search in the west."

    The chancellor nodded, unable to swallow his joy despite the warning however.

 "Of course, Your Majesty. How are you and the other warriors, we'll get you something to eat at once."

 "We'd appreciate that, thank you," Edgar smiled with a soft sigh of relief.  

Celes glanced around the meeting room, still frowning as she couldn't make peace with the idea that half of the people involved weren't there. After eating a refreshing and finally once again cooked meal of stew, the Returners had divided in those who would talk strategy in the resubmerged castle and those who would stay on the once more airborne Falcon in case anything would turn up. They couldn't afford risking the airship and it wasn't something you could hide just like that, being too big for an invisibility spell.

    In the castle were Celes herself, Locke, Relm, Mog, Gau, Cyan and Edgar. The rest were guarding the Falcon – and the two youngsters of the group were there more because of their safety than anything else. Relm was stubbornly sitting straight in her chair, but her exhaust showed in her eyes. She was a strong girl, no doubt, but her young body couldn't take this seemingly endless amount of strain.

 'And neither can I…' Celes allowed herself to admit, sighing almost soundlessly.

    She was tired as well, even more now that she had eaten and was allowed to relax. The little sleep she had gotten during the night might as well just have been a dream. To point at Relm was just an excuse, she knew that. They were all tired, dark rings showing even around Cyan's stern eyes. 

    The magitek knight glanced at Edgar, who was listening to the chancellor with his head slightly bowed. It wasn't hard to know why.

 "Please, Your Majesty," the man more or less pleaded, "the people needs you to be here to bring hope, we need you to lead us. Your capture almost broke all hope and will to fight, please don't take any risks!"

    Edgar sighed and shook his head. 

 "I know chancellor, I know. But I'm needed out there as well," he said in a low voice, "if I sit here and hide in the castle, I won't be able to truly help anyone. I can't send people off to do the battling for me, I'm sorry."

    He straightened up, resolve in his tired eyes.

 "Gestahl must have had it spread out that I was captured, people come to the coliseum from all over the world. If I'm seen out there as free, it will crush the stories about my fall and that will bring courage to those who are too afraid to fight right now."

    The chancellor sighed, but slowly nodded after a moment.

 "I see… I don't like it, but I understand."

    Celes found herself smiling faintly.

    Once Edgar had been the king of a kingdom almost ridiculed for its strange placement in the middle of nowhere, but now… now had the hopeless flirt in a flash become the embodiment of the world's hope. He carried an immense weight on his shoulders, much heavier than his crown ever had been. But few would have been able to hold up as strongly as he did, used to dancing with the empire as he already was. The dance had grown in danger tenfold since that day when Kefka came to get Terra, however king Edgar wouldn't stop fighting for the lead.

    The blond woman's smile dropped as the chain of thought ran onwards.

    Yes, Edgar had the will to fight, and he had all of the Returners by his side. But would that be enough? Gestahl had almost all of the world's espers and that didn't even matter to him now that he was in control of the goddesses. With those he could crush any army, and at any given chance a ragtag group of guerilla soldiers such as the Returners. They were like insects to the empire.

    But at least those insects were wasps.

    If even that would be enough, that was another thing. Most probably they were more irritating than a threat.

    She felt a touch and looked down, watching curiously as a bigger hand encircled hers. Her gaze wandered over the wrist and arms, reaching the shoulder and neck of the owner. Soon enough she looked into Locke's warmly brown eyes, now surrounded by darker areas. He was pretty pale but managed to smile a little at Celes, trying to encourage her.

    Before she had even thought of being too tired to try she smiled back and nodded slightly, reading the wavering hope in the way he looked at her. They felt the same about the whole ordeal, and the last resolve was the ultimate.

    Few have been irritated to death by insects, but it's damn well worth trying.

    Together.

 'Gogo, _wake up_!' Siren shouted.

    Being awoken from sleep, even a light one, by a voice shouting inside of your brain is not very pleasant. And considering the mimic's normal relationship to mornings he was one single inch from shouting a few less well-formulated words at the esper, aloud. But she put up a wall against his anger, long enough for him to notice his brother.

    The light was on, but very dim. It was just enough to see things fairly well, not more.

    Kerr was sitting on his bedside, almost curled up in a fetus' position as he furiously rubbed his temples with somewhat mechanical movements.

 'Did you do that to him?!' Gogo lashed out in rage as he hurriedly got to his feet.

 '_No_!' Siren somewhat desperately defended herself, 'don't call to him, he's in pain!'

 'I can see that, but what the hell is wrong with him?!'

    The mimic was already moving towards his brother, quickly.

 'I think it's an aftermath of his crack yesterday, the faults in his mind are glowing. I don't dare to do anything until I know what's causing it…'

 'Terrific!'

    Siren was taken aback by Gogo's anger, but at the same time she saw through it as fear.

 "Brother…"

    Carefully the mimic reached out and touched Kerr's shoulder.

    The esper blinked, her own hatred wavering in hesitance as she watched the events unfold.

    Kerr whimpered. 

    _Whimpered_?!

 "Kef…"

    He flinched as Gogo sat down beside him and reached around his back to the other shoulder. Carefully the younger of the two pulled his brother closer until Kerr leaned his head on the mimic's chest like a sick child seeking comfort in a parent's presence.  

 "Shh-sh-shhh…" Gogo murmured, "it'll be alright, just breathe deeply."

    All that left the faltering man's lips was an incoherent mumble.

 "What?" the mimic asked in a gentle voice, masking his worry as good as he could.

    Kerr shook his head as if in confusion, his eyes darting from side to side almost like in fear. Once again he tried to speak, but failed.

    Seeing no other solution Siren reached into the glowing mess that was the man's mind, even if the settled "tree trunks" now twisted like the tentacles of a wounded octopus. One quick touch, and she threw herself backwards with a shriek of pain that only she heard.

    It _burned_? It burned her like acid just to briefly touch… 

    She flinched as she realized that if it hurt her, an outer force, to touch that mind, then what did Kerr feel? He didn't carry that pain in his head, the mind was in itself the pain and the mind is the person… Kerr _was_ that tearing, burning, frothing hell.

    Clutching her harp Siren fought not to mentally vomit. Something, somebody had created this within the man, created a torture chamber built up by the raping of a soul.

 'This is not how it should be!' she screamed at the silent world of her existence, the horror at what she saw battling the twisting lust for revenge.

    Yes, she wanted Kerr to pay for his crimes, had done so ever since the first time she had come in contact with him. He and those he worked with deserved judgment, but this was not how it was to be carried out! It was unnatural, it was detesting! If anything, this was his insanity and thus it would only make things worse. Looking at his agony it amazed Siren that Kerr hadn't turned himself inside out to escape it. 

    And was this the first time he went through this?

    She bit her lower lip, turning away from the violently spiraling mess as it made her feel sick to look at it.

    A mind is a beautiful thing, in essence. She knew that better than anyone.

    And she couldn't allow what she saw right then, like an artist watching her masterpiece be torn to pieces and burned before her very eyes, a child desperately holding a dying kitten.

    Slowly at first and with shivering fingers she held up her harp and ran her fingertips over the strings, creating a soothing melody that floated straight into the pained mess. The music slipped between the tentacles and seemed to duck away from all movements in fear at first, but as Siren became more resolute in her decision the notes also gained courage. The threads carefully coiled themselves around the trunks, caressing their unruly forms calmingly.

    The esper closed her eyes and shuddered, but kept praying even though she became more closely bonded with Kerr through this than she had ever planned to be. When reaching out like this she felt what he felt through her magic, and finally she could grasp and accept Gogo's view of things. The acceptance wasn't willing, but there was nothing she could do about it as she unwillingly stared at the emotions that became bared to her.

    Kerr was confused.

    He was in pain.

    And he was scared.

 'No…' Siren whispered, almost in tears as her own feelings warred in her soul.

    This couldn't be the "lord Kefka" they all knew! It had to be a lie! 

    It had to!

    Please… Kerr couldn't be allowed to be this… human, this frail… weak and pathetic, clutching at his burning straws of reality. Not him, not that demon! This wasn't the man who scornfully threw away Ifrit and Shiva like so many espers before as their powers were gone!

    Siren's hands fell. She curled up, shaking her head and too shocked to realize that she was almost mimicking Kerr's earlier position. What she'd seen was too obscure for her to digest. 

    But even as the music stopped it had already made it's work though it wasn't strong enough to last. It was just enough to give Kerr a short respite. He didn't understand why the torture subsided a little, but he could feel that it wouldn't be held back for long.

    Insane and confused maybe, but a small piece of survival instincts was still preserved. At least now he could faintly remember how to talk.

 "Bathrm… blue bottl… mirurgh…"

    Gogo sharply looked down.

 "Blue bottle in the bathroom? By the mirror?"

 "Eesh…"

 "I'll get it for you," Gogo calmingly promised and carefully helped his brother lie down beside the twisted blanket, "try not to move, alright?"

    Kerr muttered something that sounded vaguely assuring. Either that or a sarcastic comment, it was rather hard to tell.   

    When he was sure that his brother could make it alone for a moment, Gogo quickly stood and hurried towards the smaller room. The door was one inch from slamming into the wall as he tore it open, but he managed to stop it just in time. Without slowing down a second he dived into the bathroom and frantically glared at the collection of pots and bottles. 

 'That one!' Siren weakly called pointed at a navy blue form in the outer ring of the mess.

 'Are you sure?' Gogo hissed, his hand already gripping it.

 'I don't think there's anything else that's blue…'

    There was a dry clatter as the bottle moved, and for a second the mimic froze. Pills?

    Just what the hell was it that Kerr wanted him to get, anyway?

 'Hurry!' Siren urged in a hoarse voice, snapping him out of the trance.

    Gogo spun around and dashed back to his brother without one single thought making it through the mess in his own mind. The flat lid of the bottle fell to the floor halfway through the room and the mimic nearly continued straight into the wall beside the bed before he managed to stop his run.

 "How many?" he urgently questioned, cold sweat breaking through his skin as he stared at his brother.

    Kerr stared back with a panicked expression, convulsingly curled up into a ball. Frightened eyes darted between Gogo's face and the bottle he held, as if the madman hadn't understood what his brother was saying.

    Slowly Kerr's right hand left his chest and rose slightly, shaking like a leaf as the white-knuckled fist tried to straighten out. The tremble became more violent as the pointing and middle finger twisted out of the lump of constricted muscles. 

 "Two? One second…!"

    Gogo turned the bottle and gave it a furious shake as its thin neck refused to let a flow like that through. Three clinically white pills made it to his palm, all perfectly round and not any bigger than a fingernail.

    Something about them gave the mimic the creeps, but he shook it off and let one of them fall to the floor in his haste.

 "Come on, open your mouth!" Gogo hissed, bending over his brother to get a grip of his shoulders.

    Even as Kerr managed to get back into a sitting position he had to rely on support from the mimic; his body didn't respond to the weak commands of his almost lame brain. Heavily leaning against Gogo he fought just to force his jaw into action, a simple movement turned hellish as the inside of his head twisted with everything he tried to do.

    Then suddenly the pain faltered a little again and he finally managed to open his mouth properly. Afterwards he fleetingly wondered why he somehow _felt_ the image of a harp when that happened, but right then he could only focus on the two small items that Gogo without hesitation shoved past his front teeth.

    With a tongue dry as a paper he couldn't wait for the pills to dissolve and frantically chewed them instead, the sandy powder gluing itself all over his gum and palate. Not good…

    He fought not to cough as the grains tore their way down his throat, trying to get enough control to press a palm against his lips. A hand hit his back, not enough to really hurt but just forceful enough to help. At last a few drops of saliva broke through the dam in his dry mouth and the powder turned into a gooey liquid that Kerr could swallow properly. The taste wasn't pleasant but he didn't have any nerves left that could care about such a thing.   

    Siren silently watched as the medicine raced through the trembling body at speed that was on the verge of magical. The tangled mind began to move slower until it finally settled after a couple of minutes, bit by bit morphing into a more mind-alike landscape. But Siren didn't feel like taking a closer look at it, she'd have to move inside to see how it really was. Doing that in his current critical state wouldn't be a good idea however. 

    Gogo couldn't see Kerr's mind, all that he saw was that his brother started to relax, slowly but steadily getting his breathing under control. Minutes passed before he appeared calm enough for the mimic to dare releasing his tight grip of the shoulders he held.

 "Feeling better?" he murmured after a few more moments had passed.

    Kerr sighed deeply and nodded, without meeting his brother's gaze.

 "Has this happened before?" Gogo asked, keeping his gentle voice as steady as he could.  

 "Not this bad…" Kerr muttered after clearing his throat, "I jus… urgh…"

    He bent forwards a little, just to rub his forehead. Unknown to the two men Kerr's mind glowed, but it was just the death throes of the attack. Siren breathed out in relief, even if she was still shaking slightly herself.

    Gogo glanced at the bottle that he had thrown on the blanket, reaching out to pick it up.

 "Kerr…" he carefully began, "what are these?"

    The slightly older man straightened up and idly looked at the bottle.

 "For my head…" he murmured, "I loose control sometimes… Gestahl goes nuts when it happens."

    He tried to chuckle dryly but didn't do well. Gogo's knuckles turned white.

 "Gestahl?"

 _"How is your supply?" _

_ "What are you so worried about my health for all of a sudden? I've got half a bottle left."_

_ "I don't want any more incidents like the one when we obtained the statues, understand?"_

 "Gestahl gave you these?!" 

    Gogo was very close to shouting, but held himself back. It came out as a hiss instead. 

    Kerr rubbed his forehead again, a tiredly ironical smile touching his lips.

 "He doesn't give them to me, but he knows I'm taking them," he muttered in a hazy voice, exhausted after the suffering he'd gone through moments ago. 

    The mimic's mouth opened, closed and opened again. Finally he made a quick chopping movement with both his hands, signaling that he meant to "cut facts straight".

 "Kerr," he slowly said, "you take these because you might go berserk without them?"

 "Yeah?" the lord lazily said.

 "And if you don't take them regularly you also get these attacks?"

 "Yeah."

 "And Gestahl wants to make sure you do take them?"

 "Yeah."

    The bottle hit the mattress and Gogo pressed his hands against his face.

 "Goddesses!" he groaned, frustration, anger and disbelief boiling in his voice.

 "What?" Kerr grunted.

    Gogo's hands fell away and he glared at his brother.

 "Kerr, are you blind?" he growled.

    A blond eyebrow went up in confusion.

    Gogo sighed heavily and furiously waved with his arms.

 "For heaven's sake Kerr, that was withdrawal!" he snarled, "you're being drugged!" 


	17. Drugs and medicination

Chapter 17, One depressed psycho

"What?" Kerr said in disbelief, his voice still a lot hoarser than usual.

    Gogo clenched his teeth, glaring at the bottle he once again had grasped.

 "I'm saying that you're frickin' drugged!" he snarled. 

 "You're frickin' paranoid…"

    Kerr leaned backwards until he fell over, resting his head on the twisted spiral that was his blanket. One hand came to rest on his forehead, almost hiding his eyes completely. 

 "Why the hell would anyone drug me?" he muttered, "I'm crazy enough as it is."

 "Maybe that's it?" Gogo grimly said, not looking around, "as insane you feel no boundaries and that serves Gestahl's terrorist purposes. Besides…"

    The glass almost squeaked in his grip.

 "If you need this poison to avoid getting those attacks, then you'll be forever indebted to the empire, and the emperor."

 "Those aren't poison nor drugs." 

    Kerr grunted and got up.

 "They're anti-depressive," he said in a chilly voice as he stumbled towards the bathroom.

    Gogo startled. 

    Siren startled.

 "They're _what_?!"

    Hands slammed into the porcelain bench inside of the smaller room.

 "I _said_," Kerr growled from inside, "they are anti-depressive. Is there something wrong with your damn ears?!" 

    The mimic and the esper exchanged bewildered mental glances. 

 'Dare I ask?' the younger brother wondered, hesitantly as he saw the dangers of it.

    Kerr was obviously pretty weakened but he could probably still explode. Even with Siren's restraints, it was a dangerous game with the madman's psyche.

 'I see no way around it, even with the anchor I cannot risk reaching out to his soul when he's this soar,' the esper worriedly said. 

 'Very well…'

 "Kerr, why were you…" Gogo began as he stood.

    His brother spun into sight, more crashing into the nearest side of the doorframe than leaning at it.

 "Why? _Why_?!" he spat, glaring at his brother.

    But before Siren even had time to raise her harp in panic, Kerr pressed a hand against his forehead again.

 "Goddesses, I should go berserk by now, so _why don't I_?" he growled, irony dripping from his voice, "I should be pouring poison into a river in a moment…"

    Removing his hand in order to lightly knock his forehead against the nearest wood, Kerr grunted with frustration and disappeared back into the bathroom. 

 "Answer me!" Gogo pressed, resolutely walking towards the door.

    Siren floated after him, silently.

    They found Kerr leaning over the washbasin, rubbing his face with cold water. As he noticed his brother he straightened up, turned the tap and reached for a towel. A joyless, tired smirk touched his lips as he quickly wiped the water away. 

 "What?" he said in an uninspired voice.

 "Why would _you_ need anti-depressive medicine?" Gogo asked, as calm as he could.

 "Why…"

    Kerr shook his head. He stopped the movement turned at his hollow-eyed reflection in the mirror.

 "That's why!"

    With renewed rage he flung the towel at the glass-covered silver. The cloth hit his replicated face and half of the fabric fell into the basin below while the rest hung on the edge.

    Gogo slowly tilted his head, his chest constricting into a tight knot. 

 "Broth…"

    Kerr cut him off by flicking the mimic's chin with his finger. The sneer was exhausted, drained of all emotion.

 "Oh nonono, I can see that damn self-blaming tendency all over your stupid little face… _our_ faces!"

    Gogo moved just quickly enough to catch his brother in the fall. Which rendered them both crashing down on their knees due to Kerr's body absolutely refusing to stay straight even with help.

 "I'm okay, I'm okay…" the older of the two murmured, his right hand almost breaking the younger one's shoulder.

 "Right…" Gogo grunted, reaching to give Kerr a little hint via a rather desperate scratch on the back of the crunching hand.

 "Heh."

    The big bro got the message and released his grip along with a deep sigh.

 "Alright, _breathe_," Gogo murmured, calmingly waving with his less limp hand, "what happened, Kerr?"

    The questioned gulped down a few breaths before he replied.

 "Cause and effect, you know me…" he grunted, "I never look back… I don't even look ahead."

 "Not when you're angry, no," the mimic softly muttered in an insecure voice.

 "Precisely…"

    Kerr tiredly massaged his forehead.

 "Betrayal is a nasty business, bro…" 

    With a sigh he glared at his brother's hand, resting against his somewhat thinner sleeping robes.

 "And the irony is that you goddamn forgive me, just like that. It doesn't make me consider putting those pills away for good," he dryly muttered.

 "If it makes you happier, there were moments when I wished you were around again just so I could strangle you with a cobra."

    Gogo's lips twitched into a tiny, wry smile as Kerr scoffed.

 "Overall though… you're my twin brother after all," the mimic ended in a gentler voice.

 "You must have been a devil to deserve that."

    Kerr pressed his hand against his eyes again, his head dropping as the words leaped out without full consent. It was out of character, indeed. Lord Kefka felt not a grain of remorse, the whole world knew that.

    The whole world knew…

 "I see…" Gogo said in a low voice, ensuring his grip of his brother.

 "Funny… you were the reason I started taking those damn pills," Kerr grunted, "but I got the punishment today because you made me forget about them."

    The mimic nodded, even though his brother couldn't see it.

 "At least now I know the truth," he said, more grim than before, "the next thing we need to do is get those things out of your system."

    There was a dry chuckle.

 "Bro… I'll hand you a lot after the last couple of days, I do owe you," Kerr dryly admitted, "but I need that medicine to function properly."

 "Oh really now?" Gogo slowly said. 

    Kerr looked up, the glistening in his eyes speaking of being ready to battle if needed. At least verbally.

 "Yes, I've been taking them for almost two decades," he stated, "without them I become like _this_! Gestahl will notice that something is wrong, don't you understand that?"

    They exchanged glares for a few moments, Siren just leaning back and watching the show.

 "They don't seem to do much for you now," Gogo pointed out. 

 "Hold your breath, we're getting there. Just hasn't started properly yet."

 "Whatever you say. But you know Kerr, when you're acting more balanced I see no difference between you now and twenty years ago. I think you only need those pills to get going."

 "Yes! I need them to get into the happy-crazy mood, without them I remain like I am right now; way below Kefkaish."

    He rubbed his forehead, chuckling ironically.

 "I mean Kerrish," he corrected.

 "Depends on who's viewpoint we're talking about here," Gogo mildly commented.

    His vague amusement died. 

 "But listen to me brother, before you took those pills you were the same as you are now, apart from one very important thing," he said, "you weren't a killer then."

 "Wuz a traitor," Kerr glumly murmured.

 "You were bitter," Gogo said, sharper than before, "cause and effect, remember? Listen…"

    He took in a deep breath.

 "I know you could _think_ of a lot of evil things, don't we all? But you'd never actually _do_ anything. That medicine clouds your better judgment."

 "_Better judgment_?" Kerr hoarsely chuckled, "Kef…"

 "I think it clouds a lot more than that as well," Gogo pressed on, cutting him off, "do you have a pen and paper somewhere?"

    The older brother frowned, blinking in surprise.

 "Left side of the wardrobe in the shelves, why?" he said.

 "I'll be right back."

    Gogo stood and quickly left the room. Glaring after him in puzzlement Kerr reached up to the red bench below the mirror and heaved himself into standing. He leaned against the basin as he waited, seconds passing. 

    Then his brother's steps closed in again, the mimic hardly watching his steps as he walked while furiously scribbling on a hardly used note block with a black lead pencil.

 "The other day you said you couldn't think of anything better about the code on Celes' armband," the mimic frankly said, and continued by pressing facts further than ever, "but that was when you were still Kefka. Now you're Kerr, right?"

 "Yeah?" the madman said, frowning even deeper.

 "Good."

    Gogo nodded and spent another half minute writing before he pushed the note block into his brother's surprised hands.

 "We're going to do a little test then. Tell me what X and Y are," he said. 

    Kerr turned the block to read, his eyes curiously scanning the two cluttered rows of numbers and symbols. His brother silently watched as the bewildered expression died down, slowly being replaced by a serene lack of expression as the older one's brain began to work.  

    Seconds sneaked past, the low breathing of the two men the only sound that was heard. The watching esper was waiting, just as curious as Kerr had been.

 "X is seventy-eight, Y is nine comma three," the servant of the empire finally said.

    He looked up as Gogo slowly nodded while crossing his arms.

 "Correct," the mimic said and pursed his mouth, "but it took you three minutes."

 "Three _minutes_?"

    Kerr heatedly stared at the numbers again, as if they were opposing him. 

 "This shouldn't take more than one!" he growled, more to himself than his brother.

 "Do you believe me now?" 

    With a sigh Kerr lowered the notes, shaking his head.

 "Look bro, you might be on a somewhat right track but it's not that simple. If I stop taking those pills I get that withdrawal as you call it, but before that I get other attacks. Yesterday I got woozy, that's the light version."

    The papers swiftly flapped as they landed on the bench.

 "The other option is that I loose control and wake up an hour later to be told that I just erased a village from the face of the earth, cattle included."

    Gogo caught the falling hand, frowning as he glared straightly at his brother.

 "Are you listening to yourself? You would never have done anything like that before you started taking that devil crap!" the mimic growled.

 "Are _you_ listening to _me_?" Kerr snarled back, "I was about to go berserk on the floating continent before the statues, can you even imagine what could have happened? And that was just because I hadn't had time to take any pills for a couple of days!"

 "Kerr, calm down!" Gogo demanded, waving his free hand before the elder's face, "I said listen to yourself; you're thinking logically!"

    Kerr paused for a moment, sighed, tugged his hand out of the mimic's grip and shook his head.

 "Bro, it might be so but I don't feel well," he murmured in a tired voice, "and for the last time, I can't quit! Cutting down doesn't work, I tried once when I was getting irritated by them!"

 "Can't healing…"

 "No, it can't," Kerr interrupted.

    Gogo rubbed his forehead.

 'Siren?' he thought.

 'To explain it with the description I gave you, removing the nets and mould will leave holes. Normal healing can't do anything.'

    Her head dropped and she sighed, admitting defeat once and for all.

 'But I can.'

    Gogo's reply took a moment longer than usual.

 'We spoke of this before,' he finally said, softly, 'I cannot force you to help.'

    Siren shook her head.

 'I don't think I could back off after this discovery,' she said, 'I'll do my best, but…'

    Gogo mentally nodded, watching his brother.

 "Alright, we'll just drop it," he spoke aloud, calmingly, "but if we can think of anything…"

    Kerr gave a short, dry chuckle in reply, showing what he thought of the possibility of that idea.

 '… What will he think when he starts feeling better?' the mimic ended Siren's sentence with concern.

Author's note: 

I want to thank all the reviewers for your support :) And since a few of you have commented on Clyde's change of heart I'll try to do something about that in the next chapter. Have the perfect idea for it…

    And as for Kerr, very happy that you think that he's turned out well. But if you think he's pretty nutty now, let me just say that this is nothing in compare of what's to come when the plot _really_ gets started. Mwahahaha… you better wear safety belts due to the plot twists to come. 


	18. Too good senses

Chapter 18, Eyes on me

Sighing of relief Locke slipped his arms through the lightly gray shirt and easily fixed the buttons. It was a little too silly even for him to think that way, but he felt like he had burst through a cocoon when finally being able to change his clothes into something more Locke-alike. 

    Figaro castle lacked a lot, more than any other place due to its battle against the empire. But wool was not anything that was highly valued in a flying castle where silk was everyday-wear nowadays. So at least there was one ware that the brave ones in South Figaro could smuggle to their warriors without any bigger troubles. Bless bad bureaucracy. 

    But clothes will not win a war. There were other things that were desperately needed, especially in military terms. Food was tripping around the borderline of "just barely enough", cacti being used to the outmost since it was just about the only thing that the desert offered. The monsters living there had never been on the list of appetizing stuff and would never be.

    Rations could hardly be afforded even to king Edgar's troop, but the Returners had received a little on their journey. It was enough for a day, dried peas and cacti bread. But it would hopefully be sufficient, since the lack of food was the first thing on the list of things to do something about. On Gau's suggestion the warriors and a smaller band of soldiers and hunters from the castle would fly to the Veldt to hunt. The wild boy would be a superior asset to the rebellion with his knowledge of the animals on the prairie.  

    It was relatively safe since the empire hardly had the interest or the people to patrol the grasslands, and in any case chances were that they still were furiously scouting the area around the coliseum.

    Locke pursed his mouth in concern as he pulled on a brownish jacket.

    They could get food, but there was another problem. Equipment.

    The people under Edgar's command had found a fair amount of coal in the undersea caverns between the continents, but all the iron ore mines of the world were controlled by the empire. 

    With the castle being the manufacturer and South Figaro the market, the equation was pretty simple. Too much had been lost to Gestahl's troops as the city was taken, both times. What still was available to the rebel army was hardly enough, but they had to work with the little they had. 

    The treasure hunter grimly touched the dagger in his belt. He could use that alright, so it worked for him. Relm had her brushes and her grandfather could use staffs, Gau and Sabin weren't to much trouble either. The rest had taken whatever swords and spears were available. Shields and armors were even worse…

    A knock on the door interrupted the troubled thoughts.

 "I'm done, you can come in," Locke approved, embarrassed for having taken up the room for too long. 

    After taking the last day off for some decent rest, the hunting team was now getting ready to use the oncoming night to travel without being seen. But a change of clothes had been desired by everyone considering the poor state they all were in. 

    Locke hadn't had any major expectations about who wanted to enter – though deep down there had been a brief thought about Celes – but what he saw almost made him jump out of his skin. 

    It was a ghost from the past.

    Clyde couldn't help but smile slightly at Locke's stare.

 "I'll explain," he assured, "but I believe you have my helmet."

The Returners had for the liftoff assembled on the deck with the other men and women who would accompany them, to make sure that everything was ready. Tension was in the air, for they all knew that though the risk was slim that Vector would sneak up on them, it was a threat. The troop that knew magic had just gotten out of Gestahl's clutches and they had no desire to see the nightmare palace again anytime soon. The people of Figaro knew nothing of imprisonment by the emperor's hands, but they could very well imagine. 

    But the rebellion needed them. Food was desperately required. 

    Setzer looked up at the light-green sky. The sun was on its way down, painting the horizon heavens golden.

 "Everyone ready to go?" the gambler asked.

    Glances were exchanged before there was a collective nod.

 "Hang on a sec, somebody has an announcement!"

    Locke's sudden voice called all eyes towards the back of the ship as the treasure hunter emerged from the stair leading down. He glanced backwards, seeming strangely uneasy.

 'Wasn't he the last one down there?' Setzer briefly thought before the reason for Locke's words and look appeared, seemingly floating up the stair with deadly grace.

    The eyebrows belonging to the Returners onboard twitched, while the Figaro warriors just wondered what the fuzz was all about.

    Interceptor trotted over to the faceless, black shade of a man and sat down by the ninja's side, completing the picture.

 "Dad…?" Relm hesitantly said, placing her hands on her non-existent hips in protest.

 "I was thinking…"

    Clyde reached up and removed the cloth mask concealing his face apart from the eyes.

 "Gogo reminded of something," he gravely said, "he hid his face so that he wouldn't be attacked or bring the rest of us danger. This…"

    He motioned at himself.

 "… is the only Returner face that the empire does not know. I was probably seen during our escape, but surely not well enough to be remembered. As long as it remains that way, I have a chance to be anonymous to any guards."

    There was a silence for a moment.

    Finally Sabin carefully smiled.  

 "Good thinking, Shadow," he acknowledged.

    Clyde slowly nodded and retied the mask with skilled hands.

 "Bear with me, Relm, Strago," the ninja said, his voice obscured by the fabric.

    His daughter glared at him for a moment. Then she sighed and let her arms fall.

 "Oh fine, I guess… you look kinda cool like that, anyway," she admitted with a small smirk.

 "But if you go anywhere without giving me a full report on where all of a sudden," Strago said with force, "I swear I'll find you and make you eat that veil of yours."

    Clyde would probably have chuckled, at least. Shadow simply nodded in agreement, silently.

 _"Don't you tell me that you're not bored."_

_ "Well, I'm rather used to it."_

_ "No need for that now!"_

    Flames scorched the clear surface, their heat so pure that it didn't leave a single mark. 

 "Bro," Gogo started, "you really don't have to…"

 "No I don't, I know this already," Kerr said, waving his hand slightly.

 "Yeah, I know. But this isn't something that anyone would call pastime," the mimic pointed out but muttered the spell once again, sending a fireball at the glass wall which vividly reflected the light. 

 "Lightning goes like this."

    It almost appeared like the madman wasn't listening, but Gogo knew he did. However he found it to be wise not to question things too much.

    Kerr had managed to recover as the drug really set in, but he had still shown a thoughtfulness that was uncommon for lord Kefka. He claimed that he didn't show it to anyone outside of the room, but as the brothers knew that the oldest of them was a horrible actor they shared a slight worry.

    Gogo had a feeling that was the reason that Kerr had brought up the issue of learning magic.

    As the first lightning bolts ceased their dance over the wall, the younger brother raised his hand and fought to remember the spell without letting his mind click into mimicking. It wasn't easy, he was too used to do it. 

    After a few moments he growled and let his trained senses do what they wanted, sending streams of electricity from his fingertips.

    But afterwards he couldn't repeat the action.

 "Damn," he muttered and glanced at Kerr apologetically, "show me again."

    The older one scratched his cheek with two fingers, a blond eyebrow arching.

 "How do you do that copy thing, anyway?" he wondered, rather intrigued.

    Gogo shrugged, frowning slightly.

 "I wish I could explain it," he said, "but I just do it, simple as that. My brain doesn't even register what happens."

 "Too bad, I'm sure it's quite fascinating," Kerr shrugged, "but not enough to have you strapped onto a table and dissected."

 "Oh, I can feel the love!" Gogo snorted.

 "That's my line!"

 'You two are just bizarre…' Siren murmured, with a hint of amusement however.

 'You're in the same boat, my lady,' the mimic shot back, chuckling in his mind.

 'Indeed, and that's what's scaring me the most. Nutcases.'

    Gogo smiled at her, but turned his entire focus back at his brother as Kerr spoke.

 "One more time then. Like this…"

    It went better this time, even if the bolts were rather irregular and much thinner than they really should.

 "Good thing you have time to practice," Kerr commented with a slight smirk.

    His brother eyed him again. 

    Enough already.

 "Kerr, you're not doing this because you worry about me being bored," Gogo sternly said.

 "Party pooper."

    The madman glared at the glass wall for a moment before he spoke.

 "Fine, you know me too well."

    He turned back at his brother, shaking his head with a graveness that was so truly uncommon that it was eerie.  

 "I'm fairly sure that I didn't make any mistakes today, but after the statue incident when we took over I believe Gestahl will be snooping around any strange behavior of mine." 

    Gogo slowly nodded, seeing where it was heading. Kerr addressed him again.

 "If we are found out, you might have to fight your way out of here and using that defensive style only will render you being on the menu at the Coliseum."

 "If we are found out," the mimic firmly said, "you'll be fleeing with me."

    Kerr smirked sarcastically.

 "Bro," he said with a dry chuckle, "Gestahl can't execute me. If he did, people would like him."

    The fact that Siren was about to bravo the reasoning shocked her. Not because she found it to be true, but because Kerr's twisted joke actually amused her and she was about to react in the same spirit. Hiding it to Gogo she slapped herself in an attempt to get a grip of reality again.

    The mimic was about to protest against the self-loathing comment, but the whole room suddenly shook. Swaying a bit the younger brother maintained his balance while the older stood firm, obviously used to it.

 "Ah, lift off," Kerr nodded with a smug expression towards the ceiling, "I guess he finally gave up looking for the little pretties. About time."

    Gogo's hope flared up greater than ever, but met a chilling thought.

 "What if we're leaving because they were found and Gestahl is cutting off any escape by flying?" he worriedly said.

 "Paranoia, little one!"

    Kerr chuckled hoarsely and shook his head while the ground stabilized.

 "I'd know if so. He doesn't trust me to do a good job _apart from_ when it comes to certain matters."

    Gogo was about to comment on the blunder when Edgar and the others had been freed and escaped, but allowed it to pass. Gestahl hadn't condemned Kerr's mistake after all, and he had seemed fine with handing at least _one_ prisoner over to the madman. Then again, trusting the emperor wasn't anything one should do.

    Ah yeah…

 "Kerr, really," the mimic said, frowning, "if anybody finds out about me you'll have 'Traitor' stamped on your forehead."

    The lord slowly cocked his head at his brother, his eyes glowing with the irony he was building up.

 "Oh, lesse," Kerr thoughtfully said, tapping his lower lip with a finger, "go out in the world and be hunted like an animal or stay here and risk talking my way out? What to pick, what to pick. Oh damn."

    He threw out his arms and stared at the roof with a silly expression.

 "I'm screwed either way! Can you _believe_ it?" he concluded in a high pitched voice.

 "Bro, we… urk!"

 "Now don't get me wrong, Kef," Kerr said, soft as silk, "but if you say 'the Returners' I'll fry your entrails. I think that's painful."

 "Kerr, really," Gogo gasped, grabbing his brother's iron wrist and standing on his tiptoes to avoid being strangled by his own crag, "Gestahl won't hesitate…"

 "We'll just have to avoid giving him a reason, lil' bro," Kerr said and let go, "planning for the worst ain't getting us anywhere."

    His eyes turned upwards and he eyed the thin air curiously.

 "And why do I start thinking about a harp all the time…?" he murmured, thinking aloud.

    Siren sucked in her breath, freezing in violent fear. A string broke on her instrument, tensing too much with its companion's shock.

 "Ow!" Kerr grunted and pressed a hand against his forehead, sharp eyes darting back and forth in confusion.

 'No…!' the esper stammered in a hoarse whisper.

    Gogo felt Siren's panic run down his chest like an ice-cold snake, and his own only added to the chill.

 "Bro?" he quickly said, "what's wrong?" 

    Kerr's frown was growing deeper as he scanned the empty spaces between ceiling and floor.

 "I don't know…" he murmured, not even waving at his brother.

    Gogo couldn't stop himself from gulping. On the matter of traitors, he didn't know how his brother would react to finding one. 

    The lord's eyes suddenly stopped, narrowing at nothingness. Siren shrieked and recoiled, too horrified to even conceal it to Gogo.

 'He can't _see_ you, can he?!' the mimic hissed to her.

 'He _shouldn't_!' she croaked and dove to the other side of the room to create a distance.

    Kerr blinked and looked around as Siren dashed out of the way. It seemed he lost the feeling that there _was_ something as she got far enough.

 "Kerr?" Gogo said, attempting to break the spell completely.

 "Eh?"

    Finally the gray eyes turned at the mimic, fleeting suspicion still vivid in them however.

 "Are you alright?"

 "Yeah, I guess…"

    The eyes went for another tour, but returned safely.

 "… I thought I felt a presence of some kind," the lord finished.

 "A presence?" his brother said, somehow managing to sound surprised.

 "Yes…"

    Kerr shrugged.

 "Guess it was my imagination."

    Gogo held back a sigh of relief, but Siren breathed heavily, almost panting. She could swear she felt her heart rapidly slam against the inside of her chest. Out of habit if nothing else. The same force making her breathe.

    Hugging her harp tightly she attempted to calm enough to stop shaking while Gogo carefully coaxed his brother back into the magic lesson. 

 'That was close… too close…' she croaked, clutching her golden companion like a lifeline. 

 'Are you alright?' Gogo sent her in as much a soothing voice as he could, still sounding rather nervous though.

    She took a moment to reply, trying to pull herself together.

 'Yes… thank you.'

 'What happened?' he concernedly thought.

    Siren shook her head, rather weakly.

 'He's more sensitive than I thought,' she mumbled, 'I'll have to be more careful…'

 'You better rest first,' the mimic gently concluded.

    The care heard in his voice managed to bring a slight smile to her lips and a decrease of shivers.

 'I will. Thank you, you're really kind.'

 'It's the least I can do.'

    He was silent for a moment while focusing on creating lightning bolts.

 'Were you in pain?' he finally asked, worried again.

    Siren quickly shook her head.

 'No, it was just a shock when he sensed me,' she assured.

 'I thought I was going to drop dead as he looked straight at me…' she added to herself, shuddering again. 

    Not only had he sensed her and somewhat pinpointed her location, somehow he had managed to fix his eyes straight at her face. She had felt as if the gaze was piercing her, hands about to unleash a spell that would trap her so that he could bring her to the esper facility and its hungry, merciless void.

    She shuddered again, freezing as Kerr turned his head with an eyebrow rising.

 'Stop sensing me!' she quietly screamed and lunged towards the door in an attempt to get as far away as possible.

    Kerr turned back to the wall, shrugging slightly again. But this time the shrug was less assured. One more time and he would seek out the reason for the strange sensation.

    The esper gulped and tried to relax again. She concluded that the anchor must have become too strong after all her desperate healing during the madman's attack during the morning. That would have to be mended…

    Just because she had finally accepted the idea of helping Kerr didn't make her want to risk her existence by being found out. He was still dangerous, less to his brother but that was definitely not her case. The terror gripping Siren's soul as she felt his eyes on her was extreme proof.


	19. Flight and love in Las Falcon

Chapter 19, The calm before the storm?

Celes leaned back in the armchair, not the most comfortable thing but Relm occupied the sofa, her badly dark-colored hair spilling out over the embroidered pillow. 

 'Embroidered with playing cards, of course,' Celes reflected with a faint smile.

    The girl had insisted on coming with to help out and she had, but now the magic she had used had made her so tired that she needed a nap. The magitek knight had taken a break as well, while Terra had retaken her place upstairs with Strago, Locke, Setzer and a handful of soldiers. They were working on taking care of the game, the happy voices trickling down into the belly of the Falcon. Since they had no cold storage areas, the dead animals were divided in fair pieces and then frozen with magic that would sustain it until the cooks of the castle could take care of it.

    With Gau's help the small army had sneaked up upon a heard of Veldt antelopes on the first hunt, and with the help of bows, throwing spears and Interceptor scored four of the delicate creatures, sadly not coming close enough to kill more before the humans were spotted and the animals fled. 

    The troop had gone off again two hours ago after a quick meal, hopefully they would return soon with more trophies. The antelopes were more food than had been seen for quite a while in the rebellion land, however they wouldn't be enough. The hope was on finding eastern buffaloes, just three of those would mean a great feast for Figaro castle. If that much meat was saved and used well, it could be enough for a week.  

    Celes leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment. Much was happening, she was still assembling her strength from the horror and relief of the last few days. Like most of the main Returner team she was still trying to cope with the idea of Kefka having a twin brother, one that was ready to help both the madman and his enemies.

    Definitely was.

    None had any hope that he was still alive. 

    Celes harbored a bit of grief, but it was intertwined with the pure shock of the news and her inability to fully grasp the concept.

    Gogo had freed her from the armband and she was grateful of that, which was the root of her sorrow of his unquestionable death. Of course, the sadness of Shadow, his family and Terra added to everyone's feelings.

    But he had protected _Kefka_. The absurdity nagged on Celes' brain, and she was certain she wasn't the only one with great doubts about the strange character. She still struggled to remember that Kefka's real name was Kerr. That another one existed…

    Oh, not to forget Cyan. His reaction to the news had been almost comical, had they not been so creepy. 

    Not a word had he spoken. But his face became gray as ashes. And one spasm. Don't forget the spasm.

    He didn't want to hear another breath about the idea of twins by that blood.

    But what did it matter anyhow… there could only be one left now in any case, Kerr could not have allowed his brother to live. Celes hadn't been there to watch his reaction on seeing Gogo, but Terra and the others had been able to describe it quite lively. 

    The blond warrior yawned, covering her mouth with a hand without even opening her eyes. 

    Leaning back she allowed the fatigue to keep seeping through her weary body. She was tired, there was no use trying to deny it. 

    As the magitec knight fell into a light slumber she didn't hear the almost silent steps in the stair. Neither did she notice the shadow slowly moving down to the Falcon's lower levels, stopping before her resting place, hesitating in silence.

    During Celes' captivity she had been left pretty much alone, actually. Apart from the easily explained terms of her being a good girl and not try to do something stupid in exchange for her friends' lives, she had seen blissfully little of Kefka and Gestahl.

    Such things did not, however, keep nightmares from a caged soul's sleep.   

    Therefore her eyes shot open in shock as a feathery touch brushed over her lips, her mind screaming in fear of what she could see.

    It was simple to misunderstand. Locke recoiled, wincing with guilt. Celes stared at him in surprise, her brain clearing quickly. 

 "I'm sorry…" he mouthed, unable to produce any sound in his grief.

    Too weak to withstand Celes' peaceful beauty as she slept, he believed to have shredded the delicate bond they had woven. 

    It was almost too late when she finally managed to shake her head. But only almost, and thus the bond was saved. 

    Locke smiled carefully with relief, and by then Celes had swallowed most of her surprise. As the shock washed away the faint grogginess from suddenly waking up returned, and she rubbed her eyes.

 "Didn't mean to wake you up," Locke murmured. 

 "It's fine, I shouldn't be sleeping…" Celes replied, trying to suppress another yawn. 

 "All of us are tired, it's fine."

 "Even more a reason for me to get a grip," she adamantly stated, rising from the chair. 

    The treasure hunter shook his head with a friendly smile. 

 "No reason right now, we're done up there. Can't do anything until the others come back anyway."

    Upon hearing that Celes finally noticed that though she still could hear a variety of discussions from the deck there was no sound of steps or chopping. She shrugged despite herself, as opportunity offered not up to playing stronger than she was. Too much psychological stress had worn that pride down, at least for the time.

 "I see, I hope they'll be lucky again," she simply said.

    Locke nodded, a strange glistening trying to hide in the back of his eyes however. 

    Half a year ago Celes probably would have ignored it, but she was a stronger person now. Not that it scared her any less, but now she dared to face what she saw. 

    She was a warrior, she didn't need to be saved. At least she'd prefer it that way. Locke had already stated in a jocular manner that his saving of her from Vector had been a fair deal, since she saved him from his own madness at the same time. But of course, that joking tone was not sincere. 

 "You kissed me," she murmured, at last proving to him that she was well aware she hadn't been dreaming that part.

    Locke nodded a little again, keeping his facial features under control. 

    He was nothing like Edgar, who would have been using an award winning smile by now. For less advance. Locke had lost too much already to be able to gamble like that.

    He had lost so much that he could only look ahead through a dimly lit tunnel. Not a dark one, just one where it was dangerous to walk. So he aimed for the light up ahead.

 "Yes," he said in a low voice, not allowing himself to hesitate anymore though his throat threatened to make a knot of itself, "I love you, Celes."

    It was simple.

    What shocked the female warrior the most was the fact that she wasn't shocked. Unknowingly she had seen it coming. Well, almost unknowingly. She'd sort that out later. That was since she actually, for once, had a proper reply in the field of emotion, which was completely foreign to the young ice queen. 

    Though still unable to speak the words she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around Locke's chest and hugging him close with a smile living a life of its own. 

    In the same comfortable, warm silence Locke snaked his arms around her waist, smiling softly as well.

    On the sofa, Relm was silently starting to wonder if it was her presence that somehow brought out the cupids when it came to her friends.

    And while this happened, Gau was leaping towards the distant Falcon like a running wolf with his soul burning with triumphant joy. He was a messenger about to tell the waiting crew about the seven buffalos that needed to be transported onboard the airship.  


	20. A new general

Chapter 20, General complications

General Aglie had a troubling position. With two of the people filling the position before him turned traitors – one of them dead by the hands of the third – and mentioned last one about to drive the new one insane too, the battle veteran could only wish for aspirin.

He was a man in his mid thirties, blond, and wore enough scars to make a murderer proud. In fact, a killer was what he basically was. As a feared captain under general Celes – she certainly remembered his fists from South Figaro – he had kept his cohorts in perfect shape and full control. The soldiers had been more afraid of him than the enemy.

Despite his failure in South Figaro as the turncoat wench had escaped her punishment, there had been enough fiascos at the similar time to make his one fall back. When Kefka gained new heights, there had been a need for a new one to fill the "general" title. Aglie was as loyal as Leo had been, but he had about the same moral boundaries as Kefka. Which made him a natural pick.

But right then and there he rather missed his old position.

Glancing at the emperor he held back a sigh. The older but also more powerful man watched the frustrating part of the current trio, with vague interest behind the calm wall of his eyes.

Aglie could deal with madness, either by turning it to a smashed mess under his boot or use it like the emperor had done for years. The insanity of trained monsters, wild with bloodlust and ready to tear apart anyone they came across, civilians and soldiers alike, was a force to be reckoned with. Unlike many others, Aglie had never during most of his career regarded Kefka as a dangerous problem. The man was a tool unlike any other, set on the right track he'd do anything to get a job done. He was a machine with a brain tuned on blood, one of the finest pawns in the game that the new general was proud to be part of.

But Kefka as a madman with a clear mind was plain irritating. It was too absurd to deal with, and he was intruding on Aglie's area.

"No!" the clown snarled for the third time in one minute, his hands slamming down on the table with a deafening sound.

Aglie held back a dear wish to rub his temples.

It was obvious that the Returners had somehow slipped through the empire's net – which hadn't been too well sewn to be honest. The palace was now flying again, and had spent last evening with dropping off troops in the closest towns of the area to look for refugees and gather information. With no real luck there either, the only thing left to do was holding a war council.

It didn't seem to be going too well, not in Aglie's view at least. He had left his underfed report and was now trying to deal with the retorts.

"So in conclusion," he said in an icy voice, "they have not gone to Kohlingen, not to Jidoor, and not to Zozo. Then where the hell are they, pray tell?"

"Listen, Aglie," Kefka snapped (the general could swear the lord pronounced it as "Ugly"), "regardless of what you think, these little rats are not stupid. If they were, we would have killed them months ago. But are they dead? No!"

'He's bloody stuck on "repeat the word No"…' Aglie growled to himself.

To top off the irritation, Kefka held up a hand and begun counting down the fingers with such focused, procedure movements that it made the general want to reach out and start breaking the skinny tentacles.

"They are desperate, scared, scattered and weak," Kefka counted, bending down a finger for every word by pushing it with the other hand's pointing finger, "yes! But they are not stupid!"

The well used fingertip landed on the world map covering most of the table, more precisely on Kohlingen.

"I didn't say they _weren't_ here, that report of stolen chocobos is too suspicious. But it tells us that they're not there _anymore_!"

"Yes, I know that as well!" Aglie snapped, "but we do not know if it was them, do you take that in regard, Kefka?"

The name could have been an insult considering the tone.

Kefka's smirk seemed a little peculiar, but Aglie never really cared about such details and didn't take any further notice of it.

"It was them," the lord resolutely said, crossing his arms, "Locke Cole and that ninja, Shade or whatever, were seen when they fled from the palace."

Kerr was one inch from continuing "Those two plus stolen chocobos equals Returners on the run", but in the last second he stopped himself. Kefka did not make equations, not even simple ones like that. If he did, Gestahl would be suspicious.

In fact, the madman was surprised with himself as well. He couldn't remember the last time he had been thinking so easily, this morning was different from any he had experienced in years.

But he had ideas about it, there was nothing he could hold on to. Yet.

His dear, veiled brother would have to explain himself.

Later.

"Those two can worm their way into far too tight holes," lord Kefka continued, "I have no doubt that they, or one of them, stole the chocobos."

"Fine!" Aglie said, raising his hands to silence the clown for a blessed moment, "and I can understand Jidoor, since we have decent amount of troops there. But Zozo has always been a haven for scum, and they could probably find a somewhat decent ship in that dump the rogues call a harbor."

Kefka shook his head and ran his finger over the mountain range separating the black hole of crime from the rest of the archipelago.

"They'd have to pass this," he said, "and as we all know these mountains are hazardous. The chance of anybody surviving a climb is minimal, there's hardly anything but straight cliffs. Going around it would take an awful lot of time even with chocobos, especially since they'd be overloaded. The rats want to get away, and fast."

"A group of people running for their lives would certainly take that risk," Aglie pointed out, faking patience.

"I'll hand you that, Ugly boy."

Aglie's fingers twitched over his sword hilt. All the while, Gestahl remained silent, mildly amused of the show though he wouldn't admit it even to himself.

"However, Zozo is _not_ safe for them," Kefka continued his endless tirade, "every innocent-looking little baby there would sell those heroes to us for a bag of crack."

"So they are still here somewhere, you mean?" Aglie snarled, on the verge of what he could handle in aggravation.

Kefka's voice was one of the most irritating things he had ever heard, and the words coming out were colored with arrogance.

That voice was better off when used for cackling out "laughter" and rambling about killing bystanders.

It didn't get any better when the incarnation of annoyance wrapped his cloak around himself in a flourishing movement and waved cockily with his finger, smirking.

"What you forget is that the little rescue team got here somehow," Kefka purred, "we don't know where they came from but I highly doubt it was any town around here. They doubtlessly came here by ship."

At this point, the only logical thing to do was to give up and go along, whether it was pleasant or not.

"And that ship was hidden along the coast somewhere, waiting for them to return, you mean?" Aglie grunted, frowning at the map.

"Precisely! Thank you, you were a _lovely_ audience."

Kefka performed an overdone bow and hoarsely chuckled.

Aglie inwardly groaned, realizing that he had been led into a trap. Kefka had made it clear that he was done, and now it was time for somebody else to point out the _bad_ news for the emperor. The damn clown was _much_ smarter than he pretended to be…

Strangely enough, Gestahl broke the scheme.

"If you are right, it leaves them a lot of opportunities to hide," the emperor grimly said, frowning dangerously as he thought while leaning his chin on a fist.

The lord and the general silently nodded.

"We will leave troops to keep searching this area," the emperor concluded, "for though it's a sensible idea you came up with, Kefka…"

"Why thank you, but is there irony in your voice, emperor?"

"Shut up."

Gestahl eyed the map while Aglie hardly could contain his smirk. Kefka glared in another direction like a sour child.

"We can't be sure that your hypothesis is correct," the emperor eventually continued, "but as for now we'll simply have to wait for them to make a move. Until then there's nothing we can do."

"Sadly so, emperor," Aglie nodded, pursing his mouth.

"Tragic," was Kefka's comment while thoughtfully circling Figaro desert with his pointing finger, "and I have such marvelous ideas, too…"

"I'm sure we all have, Kefka," Gestahl said with a faint, cold sneer.

He glanced at Aglie.

"You may go."

"Yes, emperor."

The general stood, bowed and marched out. Not without relief. As the door closed behind him he set his goal; the barracks. Somebody would suffer for his built up frustration.

Still in the meeting room the lord turned to leave as well.

"Wait a moment, Kefka" Gestahl said, casually.

The pale man stopped at once.

'ShitImessedup…'

"Yes emperor?" he merrily said as he spun around, bowing almost in the same movement.

Gestahl stopped himself from rolling his eyes at the exaggeration.

"Cut that out," he growled.

"Of course, if you say so…" lord Kefka said with a faint smirk, "what is it, then?"

"I was just wondering about your behavior today," the emperor said.

Kerr dearly hoped that the blink and questioning tilting of his head was all that showed from the chaos in his mind.

"You seemed to be quite sharp there," the emperor clarified.

'I _can't_ act but I sure as hell better…' ran through Kerr's brain.

He forced his eyes to thin, waving his finger as he had done before to irritate Aglie.

"Well, after all I have a better reason than ever, emperor," he said in a meaningful tone.

To his suspicious relief Gestahl nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer as there was a sneer on the royal lips.

"That I can understand," the emperor approved.

'Use more idiocy! More!'

"It's rather boring," Kerr shrugged, "but as long as it serves its purpose…"

"Are you taking your medicines?"

The madman almost jumped at the sudden change of subject and tone.

'Sheez, you're as jittery as a tap-dancing eel! Note to self, blame Kefka.'

He eyed the suddenly grimmer emperor as indifferently as he could.

"I am touched," he said, willing a snicker, "you sure seems to care about my health lately."

"Whenever you act strangely, it is safe to blame your medicine first of all."

'Good point there…'

Kerr's thoughts paused for a moment.

_"… You're frickin' drugged!"_

_"You're frickin' paranoid…"_

'But why does Gestahl even know about the pills? Did I ever tell him? Can't remember…'

He pushed the thoughts aside and focused on the moment.

"True that," he nodded, "but no need to call the firemen. I'm taking it, but right now I'm _really_ looking forwards to a family reunion."

Gestahl nodded again.

"Just wanted to make sure," he said with a satisfied smile, "you can go."

"Yes, emperor."

Aglie had thought that _he_ had been relieved to get out of the room.

It took Kerr a few minutes to walk to his own chambers.

As the door opened and slammed shut Gogo looked up from the book he had been studying.

"I should wring your scrawny neck, you know that?" Kerr grunted while crossing the floor, taking out a bottle of wine from the lower part of the cupboard.

"Is something wrong?" the mimic carefully asked, putting the script about magic down.

"Yes, I'm getting paranoid too! You're contagious!"

'Ah, another flaw to the collection,' Siren murmured without letting anyone hear her.

She stayed on a safe distance from Kerr, the shock from last evening had still not settled.

Gogo easily caught the glass that was carelessly thrown at him, placing it on the table beside the small heap of books. It wasn't a big collection since it was what Kerr had kept in his room – getting more from the scientific archives would be risky – but it was quite informative for one working on learning stronger magic. Kerr hadn't written much himself, but others had studied and planned on passing it on for the growth of the empire's might. Now it would hopefully be used against the tyranny, however.

Mere moments after opening the bottle Kerr emptied half a glass of wine in one sweep, trying to calm his nerves.

"Do you think that Gestahl is suspicious?" Gogo worriedly asked, accepting a little wine only from politeness.

Kerr shook his head.

"Not right now, I think I averted it… but…"

He glared as his brother.

"Kef, this thing…"

A pointing finger tip-tapped against the pale forehead.

"It works."

Siren bit down on her lower lip, assuring herself that she was not close to chuckling at the grim tone in the bizarre statement.

"It's supposed to work, Kerr," Gogo mildly but carefully pointed out, "I believe it's very important for the rest of you."

"Not in this case, it works too damn well!" Kerr snapped with a grimace, "if I keep slipping on being smart, Gestahl will start wondering."

Siren's amusement died.

Slowly the mimic nodded.

"Yes, that's a danger, bro," he grimly said.

"Then what are you doing about it?" Kerr said in a clearly accusing tone.

Gogo tried to look innocent.

"_I_?" he said, "it's your brain, not mine."

"And what about the fact that it hasn't been this sharp for years, not until you came here?" the pale one pointed out, "it's a little too much of a coincidence."

"I'm not doing anything with your head," Gogo assured, halfway truthfully, "believe me Kerr, I don't have any magic for that."

He met his brother's glare as calmly as he could.

Seconds snailed by.

Siren considered interfering, but remembering yesterday's hazardous adventure with Kerr's sensitive mind, she choose to remain passive. There would be times when she'd have to calm him down, but this was not an emergency and she didn't want to take risks.

None of the brothers yielded.

"Please, it's true," the mimic finally said.

Kerr rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"Fine then."

"Kerr…" Gogo hesitantly began, rising from the sofa.

"But you'll be in an _awful_ lot of trouble if I find out that you were lying to me, little one," the older of the two said in a rather icy voice, without looking at his brother.

Gogo had to fight with all his might not to wince. He could feel Siren purse her mouth; she was worried too.

"Bro, I came here three days ago," the mimic said, trying to keep his voice friendly, "we were apart for twenty years. I will not risk that again."

Kerr regarded him for a moment.

"Three days, not more…?" the one with the makeup absentmindedly muttered, looking back at his emptied glass, "feels like weeks."

"I'm bound to agree. It's just because you gives me so many headaches."

Gogo was trying to snake out of the tight situation with a joke.

Both he and Siren silently breathed of relief as Kerr chuckled.

"Speak for yourself, sir one thousand stupid questions and conspiracy theories."

"So sorry…" Gogo mildly smirked.

Inwardly he was less amused.

'If he finds out, he'll loose his trust in me and then all will be lost,' he muttered to Siren, bitter and worried at the same time.

'We have worked too hard to let that happen,' she concernedly whispered, 'all we can do is make sure that he doesn't find out.'

'But how can we do that if you keep healing him? He's already noticing it.'

'I tried to make the healing process slow in the beginning, but I don't have outmost control over every single detail,' she tried to explain, clenching her teeth, 'I'll let this settle before I do anything more.'

'Sounds like a good idea…'


	21. Plans ahead

Chapter 21, Insomnia king

Edgar looked very tired where he stood before his people, the throne of Figaro standing empty and slightly dusty behind him. Not dusty in the normal sense, but since it hadn't been used by its owner for a long time despite the fact that he had been back from the empire's clutches for a few days already.

The ribbon did all it could to give the matted hair life, but it lacked its usual shine. Dark rings adorned the man's eye, shining on the pale skin.

But the lips bravely smiled and he stood straight, determined to give them the courage they needed and deserved. Along with renewed instructions.

"The last two hunting trips were successful just as the first one," he reported to the hopeful faces that filled the throne room, civilians and soldiers alike, "we now have enough dried meat to supply us for a couple of weeks. As before the sick, the old, children and pregnant women will be allowed a little extra food if needed, but we still need to be careful."

He stifled a convulsive yawn into a deep breath, glancing at the main Returners that stood in two groups on either side of the thrones' platform. Sabin's worried glare burned the king's skin but Edgar pushed the knowledge into the corners of his mind and went on with the report.

"Secondly, as you probably have heard a few healers have been given our last piece of healing magicite to learn curative magic, which will improve the hospital wing. Again I want to remind you all that these magic rocks are vital to our cause, and must be handled with outmost care."

Just to make sure. Especially the thought of curious children made him nervous, and more worries was the last thing that Edgar needed.

Things were finally starting to look brighter, but there were still a lot of things to do. "Defeating the empire" had been pushed down on the list of priorities for now.

"Out of safety reasons the Falcon will be flown away from Figaro for a few days since it's impossible to hide on the ground and the empire will surely have a look at the desert in the search for me and the other refugees," Edgar continued, smiling slightly as claps and whistles were heard from the people upon the last words.

They still hadn't quite let go of the euphoria of having their king and prince back safe.

"The Falcon will be used for a rescue mission in Maranda. The empire will soon discover our aircraft no matter what, and we must strike before they can handle. The mission will be lead by Locke Cole and only people with good knowledge of both magic and battle will follow, as it will be very dangerous. No matter what we do we'll be putting our resources and warriors at risk, but since Vector most certainly will be looking in this area soon the Falcon will be safer abroad."

Edgar took in a deep breath to hold up for the last part.

"We cannot feel safe just yet, we won't be able to until Gestahl and Kefka are dead, and the empire destroyed. Therefore, remain ever on guard, I am counting on you," the king of Figaro ended his speech.

His people cheered him and his friends on as they walked down the room, the crowd helpfully splitting in two to let them pass. Applauds followed the main Returners as they continued out of the throne room, the calls more sincere than anything Gestahl ever could hope to receive – if he'd bother to care.

Edgar suppressed a wince as he heard the whistles and calls around and behind him. He had been very groggy in the Coliseum and the memories were blissfully blurred, but two things he remembered where the boos from the audience and Kefka's voice.

Kerr. Right, Kerr was his name. Heh.

It was still a truth hard to grasp, but one Edgar hardly cared about any longer. He had more important things to do than worry about his enemies' family ties.

Right then one of those things was to keep walking straight.

The rescue raid he had mentioned to the people had been planned as well as possible. Locke would be in charge, but Shadow would be responsible for infiltrating the once fair town while the others waited outside.

Maranda had been the dukedom that had fought the hardest against Gestahl during the first part of the war, and now the citizens paid for it. Their hometown had been reconstructed into a prison city where the empire dumped everyone they didn't want, who for some reason wasn't worthy of the Coliseum. Or ready yet. The arena didn't have much storage space for prisoners with all the monsters. And while Kohlingen was closer it had as earlier mentioned been pretty much erased from the face of the earth with only a few survivors rebuilding stick sheds for themselves – and their animals as the escapees thankfully had noted. The spoils were still guarded, but fixing up Maranda had been simpler and cheaper. Shipping dying prisoners southwards only took one and half a day after all, a time span the convicted surely regarded differently.

In Figaro's situation it didn't matter if its warriors were pirates, murderers or kidnappers, anybody imprisoned by the empire was its enemy and therefore a friend of the rest of the word. Besides, Edgar already commanded some of the best thieves, assassins and traitors there were and they had only been of great help throughout the entire ordeal.

Even the prisoners of castle Figaro's dungeons had been let out as the new world order was established, their anger towards Edgar only bested by their fear for Gestahl's schemes. At least they hadn't caused any trouble yet, being fairly sensible though criminals.

The plan was to try to free as many prisoners from Maranda as possible, seeking more help for the rebels' cause. Hopes to find any of the lost troops of the original Returners were faint, but it was a die-hard dream. Edgar just couldn't bring himself to give up on Banon and the others just yet. After all the king had regarded the older man as a superior as he recognized the Returner leader's skills as a leader and tactician.

Though the call of reality was harsh, hope grew in the ashes. It had to, for all occasions. It was all that the army of insects had.

Afterwards Edgar couldn't understand how he ended up in his own room.

"Come on bro, get to sleep already," Sabin murmured while a fine hand rather awkwardly pulled the ribbon out of the king's hair.

"Mrf…" Edgar murmured, looking around curiously despite his fatigue.

The movement sent his long blond hair spreading over the blue shirt covering his back.

Terra smiled tentatively, the silky strap still falling loosely from her grip. But as she met the sparkle deep within the king's tired eyes she almost smirked and shook her head.

"Oh no, sir Casanova. I'm just here to supply you with a sleep spell, nothing else."

"Never would I offend a lady's honor," Edgar tried to smile though his voice was a bit hoarse, "especially not one belonging to someone as beautiful as you. Ow!"

The last was a grunt born from Sabin's hand lightly whapping at his brother's head.

"Cut that out you lousy Don Juan," the younger of the two men chuckled.

Sighing dryly Edgar kicked off his boots and fell onto his bed, not even bothering with his clothing. Besides the fact that he was too tired to really care, he had too much respect for Terra to even make a move to _really_ embarrass her.

The half esper stepped forwards and raised her hand to slowly move over the blond locks as Edgar settled a bit more properly. Upon her gentle murmuring, tiny blue ribbons flowed from her fingertips to melt into the king's skin.

"Sleep well, my friend," Terra warmly whispered as the blue-green eyes fluttered close and Edgar's breathing grew peaceful and relaxed.

She straightened up to find Sabin watching her thoughtfully.

"What?" she said.

"Well, you know…"

The martial artist scratched his head, a bit uncomfortable with the subject he felt was needed to be discussed.

"If you do like Edgar, you should let him know."

Terra raised an eyebrow, glancing at the sleeping king. The dark circles around his eyes and his almost grayish face made him look very frail, and she thought that she understood what had caused Sabin to say such a thing.

But, she couldn't play along.

"Oh come on, Sabin…" she said, shaking her head.

"No, I'm serious," he assured and motioned at his brother, "Edgar needs somebody to support him more than we can do as his friends. Somebody to… oh, I don't know this kind of stuff."

"I see what you mean," Terra gently said, "but I don't think I can be the one to stroke his hair and hold him until he falls asleep, I can only work magic spells for the latter. What he needs is somebody on his own wavelength."

Sabin regarded her for a moment.

"I see that you've been thinking about it at least," he commented.

Terra allowed him a nod for his hard work, but that was all.

"I think a lot about things like that, when we're not running for our lives of course," she rather dryly said, though she continued in a much friendlier voice, "but I don't believe I can ever regard Edgar as more than a friend and ally. Edgar is… well, Edgar."

Sabin let out a slow breath. Well, it had been worth a try at least.

"You always have to follow your own instincts," he admitted defeat and smiled, "I shouldn't be pushin'."

"No harm done there."

Terra smiled a bit and turned to walk out of the room. After all, she needed her rest too, especially considering the looming future.


	22. Dreaming

Hey all, Weiila here. I'm very sorry about the lack of updates lately, but my summer job is practically eating my days and all my energy. This is why it takes me so long to get more stuff out to ya. Well, I hope that you enjoy this strange little chapter…

Chapter 22, Foreshadowing?

Terra returned to her, Celes and Relm's room. The women and girl shared a room due to the slightly cramped air in the partly mechanical fort. Castle Figaro was built to contain a people of merchants; people spending most of their lives on the road.

It was not really built to house refugees from half the world, however, so shared rooms and stressfully rebuilt storages were common things nowadays.

Terra entered carefully, as the light was low she guessed that somebody was already sleeping; only a candle on the small table beside her bed shed its illumination. Still, it was enough to see the room, as it wasn't a very big one. Relm was curled up on her bed already – the middle one – and sleeping. Terra's place of rest was on the right side seen from the door, and Celes' on the left.

Apart from the beds, there really was nothing in the room, save a big chest for clothes and equipment pushed into the closest left corner, three small bed tables and a chair standing behind the head of each bed to be used for rest or just to throw things onto. Relm's chair was covered with her hat, cloak, clothes and all the artist equipment she had been able to save – ranging from pieces of coal to her sketch pad. In other words; a mess. On Terra's chair was only a grayish, soft tunic that she used to sleep in.

Blond locks finally free from all the dark dye were sprawled over the sleeping girl's pillow, and she was snoring a little now and then. Nothing too bad though, the sound reminded more of a mouse's squeaking than anything else.

That reflection gave Terra a reason to muffle a laugh with her hand.

As she glanced further to her left, however, she frowned.

Celes' bed was empty. And it seemed that nobody had touched the blankets since the bed had been made earlier during the day. Her white sleeping tunic was still on its chair.

For a few seconds Terra pondered where her blond friend could be, but finally shrugged. Celes could take care of herself, and there were nothing in the castle that could possibly be of any threat to her. No use in wondering.

Kicking off her boots and quickly changing into her tunic, Terra headed to bed. Edgar wasn't the only one in the castle who was tired. Her whole body was starting to feel like it was made of concrete, and she gratefully closed her eyes while pulling the blanket over her weary form after she had blown out the candle.

It only took her a few moments to fall asleep.

Terra slept. And Terra dreamt.

It was one of those peculiar dreams of no sense. And also one of those that left an imprint in the dreamer's memory, making it as unforgettable as strange.

_She laid in a great darkness, nothing beneath her, and neither above or around she realized when she got up on her knees to look around in confusion. Terra stood, still trying to orient herself. Her brain felt as if it was full of cotton, and each thought was a sluggish ordeal to go through. However, there was one thing she was certain of for a fleeting moment._

_'This is a dream,' she thought._

_Then that knowledge too was gone, lost in the obscurity of the empty world. Nothing to see, nothing to feel, nothing to hear, nothing to fear…_

_"Hmm…"_

_She turned around as she heard the voice and took a few steps backwards as she saw who had suddenly appeared in the void._

_A metallic circle slowly spun around in Kerr's hand as he fiddled with it, the ring wide enough to fit around a human head. Definitely a human head._

_In this world of her dream, Terra's emotions were as raw as those of a child. She bit her lower lip in a naked horror that she could not mask, unable to form a single word. _

_Kerr suddenly looked up, seemingly noticing her for the first time as his eyebrows twitched above the red-brimmed eyes of the pale face._

_And then he smiled slightly, ironically._

_"Ah, Terra…" he said, "'my very own magic user' and all that. Old days…"_

_The woman's fear changed into anger, she narrowed her eyes at the nonchalant way of which he spoke of her enslavement. _

_"I don't recall that as a pleasant experience, Kerr," she said, for a moment thinking clearly enough to hope that the hated name would strike a nerve. But why would that make him angry, anyway? She couldn't remember…_

_Though she couldn't recall her reasons, she felt a pang of disappointment when the madman didn't react to the name. Instead of answering, he stopped playing with the slave crown and held it straight upwards between the thumb and pointing finger. _

_"Mine's invisible," he said, without looking at her._

_The statement confused her._

_"Yours?" she said._

_"Yes. Like this."_

_He let go, and the circle fell upwards into the darkness above the two figures. _

_Mesmerized by the strange sight, Terra followed the mind controlling instrument with her gaze as it lazily twirled its way out of sight. _

_As she looked back ahead, she found that Kerr had turned around and was walking away from her._

_"Where are you going?" she called, without knowing why. _

_He glanced over his shoulder without stopping, still only smiling a little._

_"Why are you following me?" he calmly shot back._

_"We will never follow you!" Terra growled, not until it was too late remembering that that never had been what he asked._

_"Then why are you?" Kerr commented, this time with his trademark smirk. _

_"I'm not…"_

_Terra fell silent as she realized that she actually _was_ following the robed man._

_"Don't trample on the prettyboy," he said, calm again as he simply stepped over Edgar's motionless body._

_Terra dove to her knees, lifting the pale king from the nonexistent ground. His eyes were closed, but he seemed to be breathing and his face held no pained expression._

_"Kerr!" the green-haired woman called, "did you do this?"_

_"I haven't done much in a while…" he idly said, without turning or halting. _

_Puzzled, Terra looked down at Edgar again. With a faint groan he slowly opened his eyes, sitting up by own force though his friend's hands still supported his shoulders. For a moment he glanced as Kerr's disappearing back, then at Terra. They nodded and stood up without a word, hurrying to catch up with the madman. They didn't need to talk, both of them just as all-knowing and lost in this dream. _

_Mog was the next one to melt into sight, just like Edgar unconscious at first but easily awakened. The moogle didn't protest nor question the hunt either._

_The group of three then found Relm, closely followed by Gau. _

_Strago was followed by an unmasked Clyde, Interceptor "sleeping" beside his master. However, unlike the everyone else, the assassin was already sitting up and waiting for the others. _

_Sabin was the eight to be found. _

_Locke and Celes were found together, their arms protectively wrapped around each other even in the coma._

_Setzer and Cyan were last, the latter lying with his hands forcefully pressed against his face._

_Silently the strongest of all Returners assembled and followed their nemesis, none of them asking about why they were walking and not running to slit a throat._

_Not too long after they had picked up Cyan, Kerr stopped and sunk to the dark floor._

_When they came about four yards from the slumped back, the group of warriors halted their walk. Only Terra continued, stopping beside the madman and glaring down at the blond ponytail. _

_"What do you want with us, Kerr?" she demanded._

_His neck bent further for a moment._

_"Terra…"_

_She frowned. There was something about the voice that didn't sound right._

_Tilting her head she saw what she hadn't before; the motionless body that the kneeling man was supporting. A pale face hung over the robed arm that tried to prop it up, blood-red lips slightly parted and eyes painted with a matching make-up shut._

_"Gogo…?" Terra slowly said, uncertain._

_The sitting one looked up, sadly shaking his head. A yellow veil covered most of his face, and the big feathers in his helmet waved at every little movement._

_"They want to kill him, Terra," he bitterly said, "all of them. He will die."_

_"But… he killed you, didn't he?" she muttered, frowning._

_So hard to think…_

_Gogo shook his head._

_"He didn't kill me. Why can't you understand?"_

_"He's done too much to me, to everyone."_

_"I know… I know… but Terra…"_

_There was a rising panic in Gogo's voice; as he looked up again his eyes darted from side to side._

_"Please, you have to understand! You have to, it'll be too late… Gestahl, he…"_

_An arm covered in dully brown cloth suddenly shot out of the darkness, a hand wearing a black glove grabbing Gogo's arm and tearing him backwards. He stumbled to his feet with horror blazing in his eyes as two faceless imperial soldiers appeared, grabbing the robed arms. _

_"Help me, Kerr!" he cried out as they began dragging him backwards, for each step taken all three of the men were growing transparent; melting into the blackness._

_"Take him to the Coliseum!"_

_Terra whirled around at the new voice, coming face to face with Gestahl. She recoiled in shock, stumbling into somebody. Cold, long fingers crawled over her shoulders and squeezed them like claws. Wincing, the young woman looked to her side and found Kerr's face just above her right shoulder, eyes narrowed in hatred as they regarded the emperor. Unwillingly Terra followed his gaze and saw past the old but dangerous man._

_Edgar and everyone else were back on the ground, an army of faceless imperial troops standing above them. Blood sparkles on the soldiers' brandished swords._

_"No!" Terra croaked, and Kerr's hands pulled her backwards a few inches._

_"Brother!" was heard from the darkness, Gogo's voice a fading scream._

_"No," Kerr growled into Terra's ear._

_The emperor regarded him, somewhat amused._

_"Really, not?" the old man questioned._

_"No."_

_Ice-cold flames spread from Kerr's grip of Terra's shoulders and onwards into her body, but she couldn't give voice to the pain. She wanted to scream, but her tongue and lips refused to obey her. _

_"Then you are dead to us," Gestahl said._

_"I am dead to you."_

_Through the roaring in her head Terra thought that she heard the distant sound of a woman crying. The voice sounded somewhat familiar, but she couldn't place it._

_It grew closer, behind Kerr and his prisoner's back. The half-esper could turn around just as much as she could scream._

_And then, through the sobs, a soft note shivered through the air. A harp was crying as well. _

_"Kerr…" the voice spoke, "haven't you done enough? Please don't do this too…"_

_"It is never enough," Kerr spoke, surprisingly soft._

_His hands slid off Terra's shoulders and she stumbled aside, falling to the ground. The speaking woman was nowhere in sight._

_Still unable to speak, the half blood only watched as Kerr and Gestahl stared at each other. _

_Slowly, almost absentmindedly, Kerr reached up and pulled the ribbon from his ponytail. Blond hair splashed over his back._

_"You can't have him, Gestahl," the madman finally hissed, "he's my brother. He's mine."_

_"There was a time when I could have granted you that," the emperor calmly replied, "but now you will die just like him."_

_Faceless soldiers grabbed Kerr's arms from behind, but he didn't attempt to fight them._

_Instead he coldly smiled, closing his eyes._

_A flaring light erupted from his body, blinding Terra and forcing her to shield her eyes. All she saw was Kerr's robes being torn to shreds by the power that he had unleashed. And the soldiers falling as a pair of giant wings spread from the madman's back._

_Gestahl raised his hands and a sickly green net shot out from his palms, growing quickly as it crossed the short distance._

_Kerr fell to the invisible ground, only the lower part of his robes remaining. He was panting violently and the bare chest below the heavy net was covered in burns and bleeding cuts, more flesh than skin exposed. His wings laid broken, strangely metallic feathers scattered over the blackness around him._

_"You will die, my pet," Gestahl coldly smirked._

_He let the net fall and turned to Terra._

_She tried to move away, but was still paralyzed. The emperor turned his palms at her._

She woke up with a shriek, sitting straight up as she was ripped out of sleep by her own terrified mind. Relm just muttered something and turned over in her bed, falling back into a deeper slumber once more.

Terra on the other hand needed several minutes before she could force the confusion and remaining horror into settling. This time she mostly spent trying to command her shaking hands into properly drying the cold sweat from her forehead with a corner of her blanket. Her throat was dry as a dead leaf, but she couldn't even consider seeking a remedy for this at first.

The surreal feeling that the dream had left in her was hard to shake off, and the strange scenes kept replaying themselves in her mind.

'What _was_ that all about?' she wondered while laying back in an attempt to calm down properly.

'Terra?' Maduin's warmly growling voice floated into her unruly soul, sounding rather groggy as if he had awoken suddenly.

'I just had a dream, father,' she quickly assured, trying to calm herself as much as him.

'A bad one?' he gently asked.

'Yes. Though… I can't really explain it.'

'Let me see.'

He was silent for a few moments, then she felt him shake his head.

'Strange indeed.'

'Do you think it means something?'

Had it not been close to midnight and her mind hadn't been spinning at top speed after a nightmare, she would probably not have considered the possibility.

'Could be,' Maduin acknowledged but then added in a bit of a teasing tone, 'or you've just had too much to think of lately. Boys and all. You're becoming a big girl now.'

'Father!' Terra snapped, but she was smiling a little.

He chuckled softly.

'Don't worry about it, just get some more sleep,' he kindly ordered.

'I'll try.'

Terra closed her eyes and tried to block out the memories, but even with Maduin murmuring gently to her it took a long time before she managed to fall asleep again.


	23. Seeking new warriors

Chapter 23, Ol' Maduin's book o' practical espers

They had taken a risk by traveling by day, to be able to arrive to Maranda by nightfall. Setzer and Locke consulted the map surely ten times more than was truly necessary along the way, but considering their situation they couldn't be too careful. If any low flying clouds were offered to the travelers, then those were used as hiding places. But overall most of the heaps of water particles stayed a couple of thousand feet too high to be useful. There were after all limits to how high one could come and still be able to breathe well, not to mention the chill. Besides, when in a cloud one could feel safer – for the prize of feeling lost at the same time.

    While their gambler drove, Locke, Celes, Terra, Shadow, Mog, Sabin and Cyan stood along the railing with their eyes wide open in the hunt for any sign of the floating island. Interceptor stood beside the ninja of the troop, like a statue. 

    The daylight was nothing but a mortal enemy, however it would be safer to keep moving while they could be seen but get away quickly, than to be seen when they landed in enemy territory. While they were still on their way they were less sure to have to deal with the empire setting up a welcome committee at least. It would get more complicated if a soldier saw the Falcon land near Maranda.  

    Few words were exchanged, but the tension was tight. They made a small troop, and as this had been planned the discussion had been hot on whether to send more or less people. It was a dangerous mission, more fighters would mean better backup. But the rebels could hardly claim that they could afford risking too many of their more or less skilled magic users. This importance of achieving more fighters had in the end won the discussion and the final number of warriors involved had been eight and a dog.

    If they would be victorious, the Returners would gain a valuable amount of new blood. If they failed, the blow would be devastating.

    Edgar had considered coming along too. He had been voted out. 

    His tired attempt at a dry chuckle haunted the minds of all who had seen him back then. Their leader was near a collapse and they knew it. But he was too valuable to be let out where the vultures could even get a chance to see his shadow, no matter how he protested. The idea of letting him back on the battlefield to raise the spirits of the common people might have sounded good the first time he talked about it, but whenever it was proposed now, everyone hesitated. It was now a week since they had arrived to Figaro castle from the Coliseum, and the euphoria at being safe no longer clouded their judgment of danger. 

    Right then however, the infiltrators' minds were far from king Edgar; they had to focus on what they were heading towards.  

    In the final, dying sunrays they sighted the southern coast of the western peninsula, once the outmost part of the expanding empire. It had been the last part taken over with "normal" warfare and not with the power of the statues. 

    Setzer let out a slow breath as the shades grew deeper, embracing the Falcon and the Returners upon it in the safety of darkness. The evening had been cloudy, so there were room for hopes of a moonless night. The winds steadily became chillier and he wrapped his jacket tighter around him with one hand, keeping the other on the wheel.

    The gambler made sure one last time, with the dying breath of the sun, that the course was steadily set to go at least half a mile from Maranda. He turned his head and regarded the shadow behind him.

 "I'll be right back," Terra promised and turned around, heading towards the stair leading down into the ship. 

    They had left one lamp on down there, in order to let her find the way when it was time.

    The warriors waited, the only sound being the wind, the mumbling engine and Terra's footsteps. She went down the stair, and stepped into the nearest room to her left. After giving the window a quick glance to once again make absolutely sure that the curtain was down, she closed the door and stood in complete darkness.

    Only when she after this was sure that no light would be seen by anyone down on the ground, as not even the open hole to the deck was a danger, Terra reached into the pouch in the sword belt around her waist and produced a vaguely glowing stone. The flame within the green crystal flicked, but slowly.

    The young woman closed her eyes, holding the magicite before her in both hands.

 "It is your turn, father," she gently whispered.

    Their bond as parent and child demanded no fancy calls to bring forth the esper's spirit.  

    Though Terra kept her eyes shut and Maduin tried to keep the light down, the flash from the summon wrecked havoc on the half-human's acquired night vision. She blinked against the wisps hopping before her sight as she opened her eyes again. They were quickly forgotten though as a pair of soft, strong arms encircled her and the smell of warm fur tickled her nostrils. Smiling, Maduin melted away, down through the floor. His daughter would only be able to keep him summoned for a short while, there was no time to waste. Then again, a sign of affection to fill the void they both "lived" with were no seconds spent poorly.  

    With a gentle smile still touching her own lips, Terra turned around and fumbled for the door, still holding the magicite in her left hand. She hurried back up on the deck as quickly as she could, finding only more darkness as she did so. But as she looked towards the east northeast, she saw a vague hint of illumination. Maranda. 

    Below the Falcon, the horned esper swept forwards, following the airship but at a far lower altitude. And he was sending reports to Terra's mind, which she passed on. 

 "Still water. Stay on course, we're almost there," she muttered, standing beside Setzer again. 

    Minutes passed with a few more reassurances from Maduin that they were still flying above the ocean. 

 "We have reached the shore now," Terra finally announced, "there are some spruces below, can't land yet… he's going ahead…"

    Setzer licked his drying lips in the cold winds, tense as a bowstring. Everyone else just waited, nervously. In the darkness they were safe from the enemy eyes, but they were also blind. The espers were not however, spiritual beings that they were. The gambler knew that he could trust their guide, but to not being able to see anything and flying at the same time was making him nervous, despite the fact that the height wouldn't let them hit any trees. The lack of mountains in this area was of course comforting too.

 "Start to slow down, we'll be able to land soon," Terra reported. 

    Setzer willed himself not to hit the brakes too hard, he knew the tension caused a risk.

 "Alright… begin to descend…"

    He obeyed.

 "Slower… we've got about fifty yards to the ground… forty… thirty… slower… twenty… good…" 

    Every member of the group grabbed the railing, apart from Setzer who held the wheel already and Terra who was too far away from the edges of the airship and instead sat down on her knees, still holding the magicite in a secure grip. As if he understood, Interceptor curled up beside his partner in crime. 

 "Ten yards… now!"

    The thick wheels on the bottom of the ship and their metallic tentacle holders absorbed most of the impact, and considering the circumstances it was a fairly soft landing.

    Maduin returned to his magicite as the Returners got back on their feet and breathed out of relief as they could conclude that they were safely on the ground. The thought of the next step reverted them back to their tense state however. 

    A couple of minutes worth of checking equipment one last time later, Celes, Cyan and Locke with Shadow and Interceptor in the lead headed off towards the glum prison city. The others stayed behind, in order to make sure the Falcon would be safe. In Terra's case it was more a question about recovering after several minutes of keeping an esper in existence outside of his magicite; it had been quite a drain. 

    There was however another reason to why she stayed behind; her bond with Maduin made her the best one to receive and call out warnings should anything happen. In an inner pocket of the dark cloak Celes wore, Ifrit's magicite rested, ready to be used for an SOS call or a warning to lift off immediately within a moment's notice. They all would have preferred to use some less powerful esper than the fire beast, but as Edgar had announced a day earlier, the healing espers were training medics in Figaro castle, and since the Returners now only owned four pieces of magicite it didn't really matter which one they risked; they were _all_ far beyond priceless. Of course, they always had been even when more of the magical rocks were in the rebels' possession, but the circumstances had been more extreme than ever lately. Go figure.

And on the other side of the world, a candle shed its mild light over a desk which in one enraged sweep had been cleaned of the papers that had defiled it.

    Reports, calculations, plans. Papers papers papers papers. Where the hell did all these documents come from?

    They needed food, weapons, ore, materials, magic, warriors, hope. He had the power to fight for all this. But all he saw were papers. 

    And he was a precious treasure, guarded with teeth and nails by an entire kingdom of rebels. Like a sword made of crystal; invaluable, but useless since none would use it for anything else than decoration.  

    King Edgar reflected on it now, that in a way he had been more powerful when he was a prisoner of the empire, for then he had been a symbol which the whole world could cry for. Now he was being wrapped up in a silky net of steel, ensured safety… and forgotten. His people had tasted loss of hope in the shape of their king and had come to fear its bitter flavor. 

    He understood that they just wanted the best, but he couldn't feel grateful. For every wasted minute he could feel his powers and skills seep out of his very bones.

    So now he stared at the candle he had lit, slumping in his chair and letting the small flame absorb his mind, while he felt the dark rings deepen around his eyes. If he was a hope, then why was he being wasted here, in his room, locked up with invisible keys?

    Soon, Terra and the others would have reached Maranda. Maybe they were already inside, fighting against the guards. Maybe they were loosing. Maybe they were winning. He wouldn't know until they returned. If they ever did.

    And there was nothing he could do to help.

    Neither Gestahl nor Kerr would kill the king of Figaro, no sword, spear, spell or beast would end his life. He now felt that it was his own people who would be his demise. They and their suffocating care.


	24. The Shadow

Ugh, this took too long to write, but I'm rather proud of the result. Really now, I promise that you'll see more updates soon. The holidays should give me a breather to write, and I already have a couple of future chapters written up. Merry Christmas, everyone!

As for this chapter, cue the theme from "Mission: Impossible", please!

Chapter 24, Maranda Gear: Shadow 

Guards wandered back and forth on top of the wall. The wall that hadn't been there a year ago. Not even six months ago. Maranda was a raped town, imprisoned within herself, beaten by strangers that had driven out her lifeblood; her children. Now she appeared more a fortress than a town, the tallest roofs fighting to peek above the high wall in the dim, dancing lights. Torches were set on poles along the hindrance of bricks and concrete, close enough to chase all hiding shadows away.

    Having crept into the forest to the west and taken a turn down to the southern side, the small group of Returners now watched the scenery before them in the same light that was thought to make their entrance impossible. So far on a safe distance and in a small grove beside the road south, they took their time to regard the guards through field glasses. But since night-vision wasn't invented yet the torchlight was all that could help them see. 

    There were at least twelve guards on top of the wall, but in the spies' circumstance it was hard to tell.

    The wall ran only along the southern, western and north side of the town, since the ocean ruled the east. But to attempt entering by swimming would be madness. The Returners didn't have nearly perfect knowledge of the setting, but what little they had gotten from a lone spy was enough to know what logic already said; the ocean way was sealed by nets through which magical electricity ran, to touch it would lead to death, and if not that then capture due to the stunning force. 

    They didn't know how it looked on the inside now. Their infiltrator just had to make it inside and see what he could do from there.

    As he watched the silhouettes of guards high up there, Shadow felt a slight stir of old thrills. It had been long ago since he had last actually sneaked into an enemy lair, most of the jobs he had been hired for had been nothing but simple assaults. Take out this man as he walks home through the park. Help us fight. Follow these warriors to Thamasa and aid them in the search for the espers.

    For a moment he almost worried about being able to pull off a mission that required skills he had almost been forced to dull. But in the next second it was gone and his hand absentmindedly stroke Interceptor's head. The great dog made no sound.

 "I'm ready," he finally whispered to his companions.

    As his eyes had gotten used to the dusk long ago he could see them nod, slowly.

 "Godspeed, my comrade," Cyan murmured as Celes turned her back towards the town.

    The magitek knight whispered out a spell, pressing her hands tightly together and willing her powers to not even sparkle as they were released. The misty cloud that left her hands didn't glow as it normally would, but floated into the night air just like the breath of its mistress.

    Shadow melted out of sight for mortal eyes as the magic touched him, fading into the night in a way that not even his black clothing would allow.

    Without another word he headed towards the town. Locke was the only one to vaguely hear his first few steps, but that was all. Interceptor laid down on the ground, waiting like his human allies.

    The invisibility spell would only work for about seven minutes; before leaving for the mission the Returners had carefully measured the lifespan of Celes' spell. When it wore off, Shadow would have to re-cast it upon himself or simply do with his normal abilities.

    As they waited in silence, Celes kept watching the silent town, the city which once had been known for its beauty. She had volunteered to this mission not only because Locke would lead it and she wanted to follow and help him as he had promised to protect her. Hanging over the young woman was also the need to purify herself of the ensnaring feeling of guilt, to pay back something to Maranda for all the pain she had caused it as she led the empire's invasion of the fair town. 

    Nobody had said it to her but she had a feeling that all of them understood. And here she now was in the darkness, watching the town she had conquered and then left to its enemies. Beside her was even one of them who had thrown that sin into her face, blind to the tearing anguish he caused her as he attempted to rip the shrouding mask of trust from her raw emotions. But Cyan was silent now. They all were.

    Celes kept watching Maranda, trying to suppress the feeling that she wasn't doing hardly enough, never would be able to do enough to pay back her debt to it. Not even after she had betrayed the orders of her emperor and ordered the troops to hold back, to spare the innocent of South Figaro. Gestahl had wanted a complete toast of the city.

    The fact that the dove she'd sent towards Figaro castle to warn king Edgar of the invasion of his southern town hadn't exactly helped her either. And every fist planted in her soft flesh, every kick marking her skin and cracked rib now seemed petty, not nearly enough to comfort the silently crying memories that the very stones Maranda desperately held on to.  

    Celes shifted slightly, but that was the only thing she did. Steel hard discipline kept herself in check. Not even Locke would know.

    And while his blond ally mused so bitterly, Shadow silently climbed the western side of the wall after tracking the route taken a few minutes ago. The gate was to the south; he'd hopefully be able to use that later. But for now, he had to do with climbing darts conveniently set in two holders on his hips. Their sharp edges had been induced with tiny amounts of thunder magic by Strago – it had taken a while to figure out exactly how much could be set there without it creating any sparkle but the old man had been a fabulous hunter and he had his tricks. Now the darts almost slid into the concrete like a knife through bread, and not a sound was heard, not even a tiny star of the magic force showed. Shadow almost smiled to himself. He could surely have gotten inside the prison with the simple methods he always had used, but magic sure made things simpler.

    Despite knowing that he couldn't be seen by normal eyes and that he made no sound, Shadow kept all his senses open for the movements of the guards above him. There was no reason to be careless. As he closed in on the top of the wall he was able to see his own transparent arms in the torchlight, but later on it could be difficult to tell whether he was still invisible or not. In the back of his mind he was keeping count on the seconds that passed, just to make sure.

    He reached the top of the wall, hanging still in the junction between two pools of torchlight and listening for the sound of the guards' steps. This would have been the tricky part had he not been invisible. Well, it was still dangerous, he couldn't deny that.

    They had discussed a distracting maneuver of some kind, set off by the others in the infiltration team. But no, Figaro had learnt the hard way that the empire had found a way to use magic to within minutes send messages between its bases and the palace – they couldn't take the risk of backup arriving before they were ready. Having little to no chances of keeping an eye on where Vector currently was – and getting away from it to report its location – the Returners would never be sure where Gestahl, Kerr and their army were. Each operation would forever be a risk, as it always had been in this new world. And apart from that, if the guards stationed in Maranda got any indication that there could be an intruder before it was too late, the whole operation would be spoiled. 

    Shadow however didn't have time to think of things like this, and didn't even need to as he already had carefully gone through it with the other head Returners. He was busy focusing on the guards above him.

    Another one passed, then the next one was about eight yards away. That'd do.

    Moving almost like a snake the ninja heaved himself upwards, hardly making a sound as he slid over the top of the wall and in the same movement over the edge of the firm ledge running along the inner side of the tall obstacle. A second later he safely hung on the ledge instead, allowing his screaming, offended survival instincts a moment to realize that he had made it unnaturally after all. But now he was starting to run out of time.

    Maranda was built around a set of hills that had made up a sort of natural defense; the town itself seemed somewhat submerged within a crescent of grassy earth and bricks of the old wall. The wall which the empire had built ran on the outside of the old one, creating a high, two-step stair which would be very hard for escapees to make it passed without getting shot by the upper guards halfway through. An invisible intruder, on the other hand… 

    Quickly glancing around and seeing nobody on the ground in the immediate area Shadow let himself drop to the ground several feet below, his soft boots and reflexes wrenching most of the sound out of existence. Still, he heard at least one of the guards stopping briefly above him and quickly backed up against the inner side of the upper wall, into the flicking shadow of the ledge.

    A few moments of intent listening followed, but then the guard resumed his pacing.

    Shadow didn't have time to be relieved, he had to find some better place to hide now that he was inside. The invisibility wouldn't protect him for more than about one and half a minute longer; soon his skills would stand alone again. Until he managed to recast the spell, of course. 

    What he could see of the uneven town was lit up by more torches, stuck on the walls of the old inn and half-buried armory. And further ahead, with the help of his high point of view, he could see that the old town square also was lit by torches stuck on tall sticks fastened in the ground along the brick roads. Light, though dimmed, splattered out from every visible window, and he could see shadows lazily moving within the houses. 

    All this light quite effectively killed off all shrouding shadows that could have swallowed a clever ninja that tried to get into the town-fortress. But it also illuminated the twenty or so guards idly walking around. They had their orders, but they didn't appear too faithful in the idea of a jailbreak. 

    Ah. A challenge. 

    Silent as a cat Shadow slid along the wall. None of the guards above heard him, and neither did anyone inside of the by grass and moss overgrown part of the armory, the bit built into the old wall itself. Of course, since the wall turned into a part of the city's streets behind and beside the armor shop and the act of leaving the lower wall completely unguarded would be plain idiocy, the ninja had to count on surprises around the corner. 

    But since he heard the steps long before the guard came around said corner of the armory roof, it wasn't much of a surprise. And the soldier of the empire never saw the intruder who had already crawled up on the leaning roof beside the highroad, shrouded by the night and his fading invisibility.

    Shadow crept up to the peak of the roof, to the junction of the crossing housetop. By now he knew that he was visible, but for now he would still be hard to spot as the flicking light of the torches really didn't reach this spot. Would a normal human be able to climb up a roof covered with tiles without causing a ruckus? Nah. And besides, anybody would be seen long before they made it there.

    Cautiously "not just anybody" used his new vantage point to regard what he could see of the area. On the other side of the well-guarded square was one of the bigger residences, once home to among others a young woman waiting for letters from her love. It was a two store building, and through the windows open for his sight Shadow now more clearly observed the shades of guards within. But they were seen through bars, covering the windows and apparently further inside as well. The living rooms, the bed rooms, all had been rebuilt into cells.

    But going to that building would be tricky, hardly worth the risk for now. Closer by, just a little bit ahead of him and to the left, was the old weapon shop, the biggest building in Maranda. Supposedly it had been the home of a count once upon a time, the weapon smith had been a famous man as well while he still owned the house. Now this old home too wore bars in every window, and bored shadows moved within.

    The assassin didn't bother about the inn; it was a small building really, and he knew what the empire's men did with inns. The lack of bared windows in the old tavern just proved that this was no exception. It was now the soldiers' main quarters. 

    But just on the other side of the narrow road below Shadow was the western wing of the former weapon store, stretching out like an arm from the main building. It was in the same shape as the first building which had been observed from the armory roof; bars and dim light. However, though the barred windows were almost within reach when standing on the road, it wasn't exactly an outstanding pick of attempted entrance, since another guard already had walked past in the torch lit alley while Shadow planned his next step. 

   He could see a triangular, protruding shape on the slanted roof of the big, former shop, turned towards the town. By memory and common knowledge of architecture, he knew that there would be a window there, probably leading to the attic of the house. The shape of the building hindered the light from the alley to pierce the dusk up there, and it was too high up to be bothered by the square's torches. 

   The roof of the wing went as good as parallel with the northern part of the outer wall, but they weren't side by side at least – even if the couple of feet's distance didn't help much. And the guards still trotted along that wall. 

    Still, it was probably his safest bet. For a moment he considered trying to make it back to the outside and then go back in from the northern end of town to get closer to his goal that way, but waved it off. It would be no less risky than continuing to operate from within town, and changing directions like that in the middle of a job would be both dangerous and highly unprofessional. He hadn't been doing things like this for almost fourteen years for nothing.

    Perhaps it would be wise to try to recast the invisibility spell… Shadow considered it for a moment, weighing the risks of crawling along the roof beside the wall against the risk of the magical light alarming the guards.

    Hmm.  

    He let another couple of minutes pass, keeping track of how the bored guards wandered both below him and on the wall, adding that to what he had already seen. There was a gap of about one and half a minute between the passing of each soldier below him.

    Shadow swept into action as the next guard turned around the corner of the armory. Quietly whispering he crawled over the peak of the roof, slid down on his stomach on the other side and slipped down on the street in the shade beside the armory's chimney, placed on the lower corner of the building. 

    Moving close to the ground with spidery movements to as good as he could avoid casting any suspicious shadows around the walls, the intruder made it over to the other side of the street, towards the middle of it. Right there he was just barely out of view from the square. Pressing himself against the wall he released the cloaking spell which he had been chanting on his way down to the street. Though the magical cloud sparkled a little, the guards were in no position to see it right then and the assassin managed to control the mystical power rather well. The mist floated around him in the chilly night air and erased Shadow from view, and with this also itself. Reaching up he grabbed the sill of the nearest window and heaved himself upwards. 

    Nobody heard anything as Shadow climbed up the low wall. Stealing a glance inside he could see humans curled up on simple cots or the floor itself in the small cell behind the bars. The door seemed to have been removed and exchanged for a sturdy bar door to make it simpler to keep an eye on what was going on within the prison. It also helped Shadow to see the guard that just then walked past in the corridor further inside. But nobody noticed him crawl further upwards, only the tip of his momentarily transparent boot for a second placed on the rectangular hole in the wall as he continued. 

    He reached the roof and though he knew that the guards couldn't see him he stayed low, creeping over the tiles not to take any risks. He had complete fate in Celes' magic. His own was another matter.

    But before he had lost the transparency he managed to reach the main building. Checking on the guards a few feet to his left and waiting until he knew that none of them was too close he stood and easily clambered up to the old weapon shop. Now he should be safe, unless he slipped of course.

    Ha.

    Easily Shadow made his way over to the dark triangular window he had spotted. In the bad light from far below he observed shadows of boxes and various rubble inside; as he had suspected it was an attic. But there were still three iron bars which barricaded the opening. Probably rather meant to hinder possible escapees from committing suicide by jumping than to hinder imposters. 

Shadow pulled a dagger from his belt; infused with the same magic as his climbing darts it was easy to saw through the metal though it still turned out rather tough. But it worked far better than his normal equipment for things such as this. 

    As one bar broke he caught it in his working-hand and placed it on the windowsill by his feet; the other hand was still needed to hold on to the wall. And so it went on. 

    Within a couple of minutes he had removed the last hindrance and sheathed his dagger again before carefully collecting the three metallic staves in his hand and slipping inside feet first. 

    Not even his skills were enough to keep the thick dust from whirling up from its rest, but his mask protected him from any risk of sneezing. Now that he could take a closer look he saw rolled up carpets and simple chairs, broken flowerpots and wooden doors among the rubble in the low attic. Apparently this was where all the use- and worthless remains of Maranda had gone after the empire had taken what it wanted before the renovation. 

    Ruefully the ninja placed the three bars upon two carpet rolls conveniently lying beside each other. The Returners could have used that iron; the blacksmiths of Figaro castle had probably been able to at least make a couple of daggers from them. But he couldn't take them along, they'd just hinder him. He'd felt far less inclined to risk bringing them along had they even been made of diamond. 

    But perhaps he could still save them, provided there'd be time to. 

    Slowly he crept down the room towards the shade of a hole in the southern end, now only enlightened by his own dark sight. All the way he kept as close to the wall as the rubble allowed to avoid any creaking sound of the planks he stepped on.

    Even as he reached and began to slide down the stair his hand sought out a dirk from one of his many mysteriously hidden pockets. There was a door by the end of the stairs, a wooden and not a barred one. Light seeped through the keyhole.

    Shadow reached the bottom step and slowly crouched down to peer through the tiny hole. On the other side was a rather narrow corridor of about three yards' length before another stair started, and there seemed to be at least one cell along it, on Shadow's right side. Considering the architecture there was most probably another one that faced the first, but it was impossible to see that through the keyhole. Rooms at this level of a house had probably belonged to the servants. 

    For the moment Shadow found that the looks of the building came in second place of interest though. He was more focused on the brown shade coming up the corridor. Unless the empire very suddenly had changed the fashion of their soldiers, that was a guard. 

    Unmoving the ninja watched and waited as the man on the other side stopped, probably to glance into the cell(s), but his head and upper chest was out of view by then and thus Shadow couldn't really see how his enemy turned. After a couple of seconds the guard appeared satisfied and turned around to stroll towards and down the stair, the planks in it squeaking in protest at this. Shadow listened to the steps fading off, but the sound didn't quite disappear. It and others were heard from below, faintly.

    Listening intently, the intruder tried the door just to make sure. To little surprise it was locked. He halted and waited for a bit, patiently listening to the pacing from the lower floor. Almost two minutes had passed before another guard graced the corridor with a visit.

    As the second servant of the empire had headed down the stair, Shadow slid his dirk into the keyhole and began to work on the lock. It didn't take him long to figure it out, with skills only rivaled by Locke. But before he opened the door, the ninja waited out another guard. As the third back had descended the stair, the infiltrator pressed his hands against each other and quickly repeated the magic incantations that he had used on his way inside the prison. His body once more turned transparent to his eyes.

    Only now when he had another couple of minutes to work with and the spell to shroud him again did he open the door, slowly pushing it away from the opening it covered. It squealed a little, but only faintly.

    Now he was in more danger than he had been when outside. Quickly he closed the wooden door behind him and hurried over to the barred door to the right. As expected there were two locked rooms, and in the cell before him he could see a big lump on a cot to the right and two more on the floor in the inner left corner. 

    There was too little space in this narrow corridor, a guard that came up here would doubtlessly notice that something was wrong if he suddenly touched something invisible. Even if Shadow could dispose of a threat quickly, it was a risky situation considering the lack of fighting area, a hand or foot could easily hit a wall and alarm the people below. And even so, the allies of any guard taken down would probably notice that somebody was missing fairly quickly. Before starting to take out the soldiers, Shadow needed a bit more information and allies. 

    Counting the seconds and listening to the outmost of his ability, the ninja took out the lock mechanism and pulled the door open ever so slightly, slipping past the tall and crossed bars to get inside the cell. He still had about a minute before the guard came. Quickly Shadow exchanged the dirk for his dagger and sliced off the metal cube protruding from the lock, catching it and placing it beside the wall on the cell's inside. This hadn't been possible half a minute ago, the door and its frame were too closely set when locked. 

    As he finished this task Shadow shut the door behind him, but since he had destroyed the binding mechanism there was no risk of not getting out again.

    Apparently the three prisoners were asleep as they didn't react to the faint clicking and the silent opening of the door. 

    Shadow slid up to the corner to the left of the entrance, there the guard wouldn't be able to see him unless he poked his head inside.

    Another soldier passed and left, and meanwhile the invisibility faded off. 

    Next step. 

    It was not without a small voice in the back of his head complaining about breaking against the laws of sneaking that Shadow crossed the floor and hunched down before the two still forms on the floor. Two men with beards starting to grow wild, dressed in clothes that even in this bad illumination showed signs of having seen better days. No colors of skin and hair could be seen in the dusk however. They laid back to back, apparently trying to stay a little warmer than the situation would otherwise allow; they were coiled up in a ragged blanket each. 

 "Hey, wake up!" Shadow hissed, placing a hand over a mouth each and shaking slightly.  

    Surprised, muffled groans answered him as the two began to stir, and feeling the pressure on their faces they groggily started to struggle.

 "Be still!" the ninja hissed, "I'm here to get you out!"

    Despite their bewildered, dozy states, those words hit the mark in the men's brains and they instantly froze. Eyes glistened in the weak light between batting eyelids that fought against the blur of fatigue. 

 "Don't move, don't make a sound," Shadow instructed in a cold, practical tone, "if you do, I'll kill you. Understand?"

    Nods against his hands. 

    The ninja swept up and stepped over to the cot, repeating the procedure with the man lying there. As this was done, the intruder spoke his next instructions.

 "I'll explain the situation once the next guard has passed."

    And with that he disappeared into the shadows in the outer corner.

    The prisoners were hardly sleepy anymore after that, listening to the eternal steps below them. But those sounds were almost overpowered by the rising beat of their hearts, whether it was excitement, relief or fear that made it so was hard to tell. Probably a mix of it all.

    After what appeared to be an eternity another guard of the hellhole came walking and left again, like the last one not noticing that one of the barred doors lacked an important piece of the lock. But the gate was so well shut that it didn't slide open, the hinges were too tough to move by themselves. 

 "Stay where you are," the ninja said as he resurfaced.

    He spoke in a low voice all the time, barely heard.

 "Now listen," he ordered, "I don't care who you are or what you're in here for, not now. I'm from the Returners. If you want to get out of here you'll have to help yourselves, there's only so much I can do."

    The prisoners nodded with a mix of fear and steadily growing hope.

 "Tell me quickly," Shadow continued, "do you know how many guards there is in here?"

    There was a nervous, brief silence before one of the men on the floor spoke up.

 "At this hour, there's about twenty in this building at least," he hissed in a hoarse voice, "I'm not sure about the other houses."

 "But they move around all the time, between the floors," a deep, rash voice came from the cot, "I used to be on the second floor, I know. There's only about ten there at the same time."

    Shadow nodded. They had to count on that there were at least one hundred soldiers here all in all, but this information was hopeful. They had a chance if they could get everything going quickly. Everything depended on speed. 

 "I'm going to open the other cell now," he informed the three, "but you will stay here until I tell you that we can take a course of action together, understand?"

    Again they gave their silent, tense approval. The assassin nodded back at them to at least appear a little less an emotionless demon clad in black. Then he turned on his heel and swept up beside the exit again.

    Guards would pass, but dawn was closing in. Soon they would all know the results.


	25. The Flight

Chapter 25, Much needed jailbreak

A heavy bar, almost one and half an inch thick, swung a nervous hand downwards with its weight as the metal and skin connected and fingers curled around the short staff.

 "There's only three. It takes too long to cut of one of these now, so they'll have to do," Shadow explained to the prisoners that now had stood up from the floor and cot to assemble for further instructions, "I'll give this last one to one of the others. Try to keep the bars even during our escape, we need iron in Figaro castle."

    He turned his head briefly, to indicate the other cell where two more ragged men nervously waited. Those that stood before him nodded.

 "When I take out the first guard, somebody will have to take his sword. Don't waste time fighting over it, understand?"

    They did.

 "Fine then. Prepare yourselves. We have to be quick."

    And the assassin slid out of the cell once more, across the corridor and into the other room. He gave the same quick lecture to the two prisoners in that cell and then slipped up beside the door, waving at all the prisoners to take position. They quickly moved back to their original positions on the floor and cots.

    While this happened, steps had begun to be heard in the stair. A new guard approached.

    The man in the brown uniform stepped up to the cells, threw a bored glance into the one to his right, then to his left. And begun to turn.

    Shadow glided out of his current cell, and though the soldier noticed something from the corner of his eye he got no chance to sound any alarm. He slumped to the floor in an unmoving heap.

 "Hurry!" Shadow hissed. 

    He had hardly finished speaking before the prisoners were moving across the floor, diving out of the cells. The unarmed one from the prisoner triplets easily pulled the sword out of the fallen guard's sheath, showing no sign of being bothered by the dead body. If that was a good or bad sign could be debated later.

    The last unarmed prisoner nervously stayed in the back of everything, though all of them stood still for the moment, waiting for Shadow's next move.

    Fingers clad in black gloves produced four tack stars from the heart of the assassin's belt.

 "Once we're down there, you focus on the remaining guards and I'll open more cells," the assassin ordered his small troop in a low voice, "do not attempt to leave the house or go further downstairs before I say so. Got that?"

    There was a low but resolute murmur. 

 "Good. Then let's go!"

    And Shadow dove down the stairs, the five prisoners following him as closely as they dared as he drew his hands back and sent the metal stars flying through the much wider corridor below. Two imperial guards were hit square in the throat and went down instantly, gurgling and coughing blood for a few moments before they died. The third star hit a guard from behind, two of the sharp points disappearing in his shoulder. Screaming in pain he fell to his knees, while the soldier he had just been walking past showed excellent skills in instinctual ducking and threw himself aside. Five and half a problem left, with the wounded one counted. At least on this floor. The scream would call up the other ten or so guards from below, already surprised, questioning shouts were heard from the first floor. 

    One guard had been just a couple of feet from the foot of the stair, now paralyzed in shock staring up at the charging little army.

    Shadow's already bloody dagger flashed.

    Four and half a problem.

    There were four doors in this bigger corridor, only three of them bared. The one to the right, closest to the stair, was a normal one. But its small size hinted at that the only thing in there was a toilet. 

    The still living guards had however drawn their weapons by now.

    Shadow was already on the floor and diving towards the left to reach the nearest cell, lashing out his dagger to hold off the charging guard for the second needed for the new Returner recruits to attack. They wasted no time, lounging at the symbol for their stolen freedom with animalistic ferocity. It was quick.

    The wounded guard and the one who had ducked were near the stair down, hesitantly staring at the assaulting force. Meanwhile the last unarmed prisoner took the sword of the guard that Shadow had cut to death when reaching the ground. Two other guards were behind the stair to the upper floor, cut off from everything by the freed prisoners who now assembled in a half circle around the assassin, whom had sheathed the dagger and rammed his dirk into the lock of the new cell. It didn't take him more than ten seconds to make the lock open, but by then guards had begun streaming from the lower floor, giving the other four courage to attack. 

    The two cornered guards charged as their friends neared the suddenly outnumbered prisoners.

 "Look out!" Shadow roared.

    He grabbed the prisoner nearest the two attackers by the shoulder and shoved him aside, which led to that the man also sent the rebel beside him stumbling towards the stair. The two guards met the bar door in the middle of their charge, because of Shadow tearing it open so that it swung into the soldiers. They staggered backwards and fell to their backs, knocked out cold.

    But from the other direction, about eleven new soldiers charged, and though the prisoners bravely assembled and did their best to parry, they were outnumbered. The guards killed with tack stars were on the wrong side of the battle; Shadow couldn't retrieve his throwing weapons and his dagger would do him little good in this situation; he'd have to reach past his allies to fight. 

    So he improvised.

    Diving to the two unconscious guards he tore off their helmets and spun around, aiming well and true. Two more guards stumbled out of the fray, leaving a brief breather. But it wouldn't hold.

    However, by now the prisoners in the opened cell had fully awakened and though confused, they grasped the big part of the picture. Five more men in ragged clothes and with unruly beards of varying length dashed out of the cell, the first couple nabbing the offered swords Shadow more or less threw at them. Two more warriors and three still unarmed men gained.

    Of course, it was still uneven even if the prisoners had higher numbers. Even if the ones that had armed themselves showed clear signs of knowing how to handle their weapons, the Returners were weakened from their time in captivity – while the guards were well-trained and had conquered their surprise long ago. As one of the prisoners stumbled backwards, the sword falling out of his hand while blood streamed over his shirt from his chest, Shadow leapt into the fray, stabbing at the half a second ago triumphant guard. The assassin aimed for the throat, but the soldier was already moving and managed to get away with a cut shoulder. Quickly the man in black leapt back before he got attacked; if more than one soldier decided to hack away at him at the same time he'd have no chance to parry with only his dagger.

    But Shadow's place was filled by one of the last prisoners, whom had picked up the dying ally's bloodied weapon. The man that had been hurt was being clumsily tended to by the unarmed men, even if he was coughing out his lasts breaths even as they tried to drag him out of harm's way.

    Clenching his teeth, the assassin pressed his palms together with the dagger sticking out between the little fingers. It was risky, but they couldn't afford too many wounded. And by now, the outside soldiers must have heard the sounds of battle from inside. All the still locked up men on the floor had already awakened, standing by the bar doors and trying to see what was going on while cheering at the rebels. 

 "Spirits of thunder, hear my prayer…"

    Small bolts of lightning shot down from the air above the fighters, striking into the moving bodies. The hit ones cried out in surprised pain, three soldiers and one prisoner. Shadow cursed for the sake of the last man, but the magic wasn't strong enough to kill. It added a little help to the rebels, even if it had been a risk. 

    There was another breather now, the soldiers were momentarily disarrayed though the prisoners were a little shaken as well. A shout from Shadow smacked most of the freedom fighters back into action however.

 "Spirits of thunder…"

    Sweat stained the mask of the assassin as he spun towards the opened cell, forcing the twisting power of the lightning to do his bidding. Even if it wasn't a strong blast, it fought to oppose the unusual use. For one who hadn't mastered magic by far, it was a strain. 

    Not a too difficult strain however. A pure white bolt shot out from Shadow's fingertips, hissing and tearing its way through the abandoned cell and through the window.

    Shouts came from outside, now the guards in the square knew that something was going on inside, and they'd move in.

    But it wasn't a signal to them.

    The bolt shot past the wall surrounding Maranda, ripping a hole in the night air before it died.

    On a safe distance for the now startled guards on the wall, a former general's slender fingers constricted around the piece of magicite she held as the signal flared into sight. Nimble but strong hands covered hers, fingertips stroking the glassy surface of an esper's remains. A third grip was added, these fingers older and wiry.

 "Ifrit, warrior of fire, we call upon you!" Celes hissed.

    An explosion of light erupted from the magicite, shooting through every crack between the human flesh that was pressed against the magic material.

    A mighty roar shook the square of Maranda, and the guards reared backwards in shock as a ball of fire appeared in their midst. Even more when from it tumbled a smooth, horned beast whom with a devilish grin of hungry vengeance brandished its red hot claws and tore away at the servants of the empire, strengthened by the power of three human magic users. Soldiers fell to the left and right, even if barely scratched by Ifrit finding their uniforms highly on fire. Needless to say, complete chaos erupted while the soldiers fled or fell to the ground either unconscious or to desperately attempt to kill the flames in their clothes.

    Of course, all the screaming was enough to awaken the guards that were sleeping, but the surprise and disorganization would cost the empire precious time.

    Ifrit flew towards the nearest part of the wall where the soldiers to get away fell over each other and off the ledges they had been standing on. He wouldn't last long, but with the extra help it would be longer than usual. And he was set on using every second he had.

    Meanwhile, Shadow stunned another guard with a magical lightning bolt, long enough for the man to be cut down. It was pure wonder that only one of the prisoners had been killed so far – wonder with some help from magic and anything that could be thrown to do damage – but another one had fallen with a nasty cut in the side and two had been forced to drop their swords and retreat due to wounded arms. Their places were filled by the wild eyed last two prisoners, who took the first chance to leave the disheartening dead body of their lost ally before fear hindered them.

    One of the recently hurt men was trying to drag the one with the big wound out of the fray of wildly moving feet, despite the fact that his torn, dirty right sleeve was turning dark red with blood. Shadow didn't have time to try a healing spell for any of them, he had to help in the battle. They had gotten it down to seven guards, but the fact was still that there were only six prisoners and one assassin that still could fight properly. Something would have to happen or they would definitely fail; the rebels were really starting to buckle under the attacks even if the soldiers didn't look overwhelmingly strong either anymore. The fury of the prisoners came however from the desperate will to be free again, and that still empowered them. 

    Red light flashed from outside accompanied with screams, but for the fighters it offered no distraction as they could see no window and were too caught up in their own shouts and moves to notice. 

    A rebel on the rightmost side of the fight stumbled backwards and fell to the floor roaring in pain while his right hand landed on the floor tiles tramped by the men who still could fight. For a moment it became a dangerous distraction for the nearest men of both sides since those who vaguely noticed what had happened didn't feel too inclined to step on the fallen limb.

    This created an opening beside the wall, however. Shadow didn't waste it, flashing through the offered spot and ramming his dagger into the back of the nearest soldier even as he passed by. 

    Another one bites the dust.

    With a little help from the prisoner who just barely regained his senses after having seen his friend loose a hand, if nothing else than for survival instincts. The dagger didn't kill the soldier, but stunned him long enough to have his chest run through with a sword from one of his dead comrades. 

     Another body and a sword hit the floor. 

     Six guards.

     Even while the last loss was still in the living shock of feeling his insides stabbed through, Shadow ripped his dagger free and rammed it into the side of the next soldier's neck before anyone had time to react.

     Five guards.

     An elbow desperately shot backwards, but Shadow gracefully bent out of the way of the hit, grabbed the arm with his free hand and tore the soldier backwards while kicking at the back of the man's knees. The guard buckled backwards with a desperate shout, the flailing of his arms hitting his own ally to the right of him, disorienting the other man for a dangerous second.

    Partly dumb luck, really.

    Three guards.

    Surrounded and pushed up against the wall by the men they should have made sure never left their cells for as long as the empire of Vector ruled the world.

 "Hold!" Shadow snarled at the prisoners as swords pressed against swords held by men with no means of escaping.

    He had to shout again to stop the rebels from pressing on until they'd manage to execute their former wardens. The worst hostility subsided a little, even if the three soldiers still were squeezed between their own swords and the wall. 

 "And you?" the assassin growled at the mildly said frantic looking men of the empire.

    A tense moment followed until the leftmost guard's head dropped in defeat. It was like popping a bubble; the other two let their shoulders sag and all three of them dropped their swords as the rebels suspiciously backed a little – without moving far enough off not to be able to stab the objects of their hatred dead within a second.

 "Where are the keys to the cells?" Shadow demanded.

    No reply. The soldiers all refused to look at the man in black. At least until the tip of a sword pressed against his cheek forced the left guard to turn his head in the right direction.

 "_Keys_," Shadow repeated, his voice a growl deep down in his throat.

 "We don't have spares!" the soldier blurted out as the steel pushed at his all too thin skin, "they're all in the barrack!"

 "What barrack?" the assassin questioned.

 "The inn! We call it the barrack!"

    The words tumbled over each other as they all tried to get out at the same time.

    Shadow nodded.

 "Good enough."

    He looked at his troop.

 "Keep an eye on them."

    With that short order he headed to the nearest cell, collecting his tackstars from their bloodied work as he went.   

    Three of the Returners left the guarding duty after a quick discussion, to tend to the wounded while Shadow as quickly as he could dirked the remaining prisons open. It took him a couple of minutes. During this time he heard several heartening cracking and sharply fizzling sounds from outside, as well as saw the flashes from the magic attacks accompanied with a good deal of shouting and screaming. 

 "What the hell _is_ that?!" a voice from the cell further down the hall shouted while Shadow worked on the first lock.

 "Backup," the assassin shortly replied, focusing on the task at hand. 

    Celes, Cyan and Locke had obviously recovered from their group-summon of Ifrit and gone into action themselves. It was dangerous for them to draw attention by attacking the walls and anybody who was foolish enough to show himself up there, but unlike the rebels inside Maranda, the three Returners on the outside could flee into the night. 

    The rebels got ten more helpers when the cells were opened, making the troop nineteen warriors out of which at least three were unable to fight. The fourth wounded man loudly claimed that he could still do battle since it was his right arm that had been "scratched". 

    Shadow held the last door open and waved at the three tense soldiers.

 "Get them inside."

    Moments later he shut the door and the lock went into place with a click before the guards. The looks on their faces, a mix of horror and rage, warmed many a harsh prisoner heart that night. 

    The fallen guards' weapons were enough to equip everyone, and the spare ones were brought along down to the next floor – the bottom one. As they passed the cell where the soldiers were, very few of the Returners kept from spitting at the bars or making rude signs with their hands while smirking broadly. Shadow went last this time, as the nether floor was silent. Doing so he watched as two of the rebels whom had managed to avoid worse wounds picked up the dead prisoner from the floor, the bigger one of them hanging the fallen over his shoulder.

    For a moment Shadow considered telling them to leave it be, but seeing the rage flare in the carrier's dark eyes and the lips somewhere within the short black beard constrict as he secured his grip of the corpse, the assassin let the subject slide. 

 "Emperor Gestahl will kill you all!" one of the soldiers screamed in wild frustration as the last back disappeared down the stair, "he'll destroy you!"

    But nobody had time to get angry at that, even if Shadow briefly reflected on the fact that it seemed like somebody had been around Kerr a bit too much.  

    The bottom floor that once had been the shop itself had been rebuilt as well. The desk and counter were gone; a new wall had cut the room in two. And in that new addition were three more bar doors, blinking and roughly awakened prisoners stumbling over each other by the bars and loudly cheering or demanding explanations in hesitantly hopeful confusion.

    The sound level was almost getting ridiculous as Shadow pushed his way past allies, as careful with the wounded as he could when he had to pass them. 

    The man with the lost hand would need help as soon as possible; somebody had helped him by wrapping the wound up in what appeared to be a ripped off piece of an imperial uniform. But he was pale as ashes, heavily seated on a chair by a table just beside the stair. Shadow hesitated for a few seconds as he saw this, but clenched his teeth and changed the course.

    He'd regret this later, he knew. Healing made him dizzy; it just wasn't his thing. But when he tried to turn away and focus on the cells instead of the constricted face covered in sweat, Relm's shocked face flashed before his inner eye. She had liked Interceptor, and Shadow. But realizing that her father was a paid murderer was still a piece of news that had shook her.

    The few rebels that had worriedly watched their badly wounded ally quickly parted when the assassin muttered at them to move.

    Eyes dimming over with pain turned upwards, wide open because of the tearing lightning bolts of agony ripping through the arm. His unfocused eyes could be a sign of shock, but it didn't appear to be enough to numb the reason.

    Clenching his teeth, Shadow focused.

 "Healing powers in our blood, bring an end to pain…"

    Green, wavering stars tentatively swept from his gloved fingertips but obeyed the will of the ninja as he glared at the blood soaked and dripping piece of cloth covering the disturbing stump. Training kept Shadow's stomach from turning; it was not the first time he had seen things such as this. 

    It went better than the first time he had seen something similar, at least.

    The spell wasn't enough to heal the wound, but the man leaned backwards on the chair with a relieved sigh as the pain at least subsided into bearable. He even managed a faint, grateful smile while Shadow turned back to the prisons, trying not to stagger.

    Nope, healing just _wasn't_ his thing…  

    Ramming his dirk into the lock of the cell closest to the stair, he managed to clear his head a bit again. He couldn't afford to show weakness if he was to lead this brute, desperate troop into freedom.

    He would not show weakness, for his family, for the Returners, for the world, and friends lost.

    The bottom floor prison had sixteen more allies to offer, and as soon as they were freed, the new Returners spilled out into the night, the ones that had managed to arm themselves leading the way and meeting the disarrayed force of the confused and panicked soldiers that stumbled at them, already brought off balance by Ifrit and the attacks at the wall.

    The gate of Maranda crashed free from its bounds – from the outside. Casually waving away the smoke rising from the fried grass on the ground beside the road, Locke stepped into view of the shocked last guards that just had been on their way away from the inn and to the old town square where the main battle now flamed. 

    Smirking, the treasure hunter raised his hand in a signal.

 "King Edgar and the Returners sends Gestahl and Vector our love!"

    Those were the last coherent words heard on the southern end of Maranda for a while, since the attacking order of a more levelheaded soldier was drowned by the roar of Ifrit as he exploded into existence a second time that night, just above Locke's head. The beast dashed at the scrambling screaming soldiers, and beside his flames another shadow dashed. Claws and twin katanas flashed together and clashed with imperial swords as the dead esper and the warrior from the crushed Doma released all their fury on Gestahl's men.  

    Celes stumbled slightly but stubbornly kept standing, still on a fairly safe distance from the wall – though the flame of Ifrit's magicite shone like a flashlight in her hands. This second summon would drain her dangerously, but she refused to yield. 

    She was focusing so strongly on keeping the esper going that she didn't notice the shape sliding up beside her in the darkness, not until a hand landed on her shoulder and another hand grasped the magicite she held. Celes instinctively tore away and the magical rock flashed dangerously as her concentration shattered. Distantly Ifrit roared in alarm, feeling his power waving in the middle of a battle with two soldiers.

 "Whoa there!"

    The hand grabbed the magicite before she could blink, shooting the owner's willpower through it and giving the esper a new boost. Locke grinned sheepishly in the eerie illumination of the dancing flame inside the rock.

 "Sorry about that," he murmured, though the grin remained. 

    Celes breathed out quickly in relief, and caught herself even faster.

 "Just be glad that my hands were occupied or I could have made a thief brochette of you!" she hissed, hoarse with the growing mental exhaust.

 "That's treasure hunter even for you!" Locke howled, but for once he didn't sound hurt at all.

    And meanwhile, Cyan whirled through the streets which Shadow so carefully had avoided, the personification of Doma's vengeance engaging his hated enemies in a bloody dance. He broke through to the town square without any bigger trouble – that said despite the fact that his katanas shone with blood already at that point. The sight that greeted him was rather uplifting.

    The imperial soldiers had already been decimated and brought into complete disarray by Ifrit's first assault, and though the prisoners weren't an impressive troop number-wise they were still enough to hold their ground against the disorganized enemies, swords collected from the fallen almost systematically. There would naturally be losses, already several bodies in ragged clothes littered the ground together with ones in uniforms. 

    Better do something about that.

    Cyan dived into the square, taking out three soldiers from behind. Not very honorable no, but at that point the warrior of Doma had to focus on keeping as many new allies alive as possible, and that had to be the priority.

    He was on his way to the next little group of guards when the door to the easternmost house swung open and even more prisoners stormed out, hardly pausing as they tore up any sword they could get their hands on and attacking the soldiers that were beginning to loose the slight advantage of numbers.

    Cyan momentarily caught Shadow's eye as the assassin dashed into the battle from the open door, now equipped with a stolen sword as well. The two men nodded briefly before they again lost sight of each other.

    Gestahl would loose another battle, they were sure of it now.

    But what the Returners did not know was that with this victory, they risked the life of a friend not even remotely close to the bloodshed.

I'm not that happy with this chapter, it seems to just drag on. If you have any suggestions on how to improve this, and other bits of the story, I'll be happy to hear them.

… apart from requests of hot, steamy Sabin/Kerr lemons, thankyouverymuch. *shudders*


	26. The brothers strike again

**Disclaimer**: Just alittle remainder thatI do not own anything – not even the name "Kerr", which is my sister's invention (funny fact is, that was what she named poor, poor Setzer when I let her name all the characters in FF6. Oi). All the characters belong to the wonderful people of Square who work day and night to supply us with excellent ways to kill off time. The bits of lyrics I have quoted belong to their writers and musicians.

And with that outta the way, I present to you the new chapter.

Chapter 26, The spell

Gogo stifled a yawn, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Weakling..." Kerr absentmindedly muttered without looking up from the notes he was working on.

"Shut up and pass the coffee," the mimic retorted, pinching the bridge of his nose.

His brother just snapped the fingers of his free hand, and the jug obediently slid over the table into Gogo's reach. Hardly looking up from the handwritten text he was reading he nearly missed the mug as he tried to pour himself another cup of the still warm though not hot liquid. Realizing the problem he finally managed to look up and did the reasonable thing to take one task at the time.

Siren couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the fuzziness in her friend's mind.

'You really shouldn't study like this,' she almost fondly scolded.

'Could do this easily before, getting rusty...' Gogo murmured, sipping on the coffee.

'You were much younger then, what are you now?'

The mimic paused for a moment, pretending to drink some more not to make Kerr wonder what he was doing. His mind-talking with Siren currently went almost as slow as normal speech since he was getting rather tired.

'What year is it?' Gogo finally thought.

'No idea, espers don't count ages like humans do anymore,' she replied.

'Fine then, do you know how old Terra is?'

It was Siren's turn to pause at that.

'She's just turned nineteen, I believe,' she finally said.

'Then we're forty-one,' Gogo concluded.

The esper glanced at the calmly writing Kerr and thought to herself that twenty-two was a terribly young age for committing blood treason. Then she made a second take on who she was considering and just shrugged off the first thought. In light of the culprit's person, it was quite reasonable.

Gogo seemed to have forgotten the whole discussion as he turned the page and somewhat woozily frowned at the sight before him.

The page to the left was halfway filled with sprawled letters, typically Kerr to not bother with writing well. Mistakes were in the best cases simply crossed over, in other cases the madman impatiently wrote the correct letter over the bad once, making entire words unreadable. It didn't create a first-rate text for studies, especially not of delicate things like spells.

There was something different here, though. Normally Kerr just wrote a headline below the last paragraph when he started describing a new kind of magic, but the magic that followed the Ice spells had been given a page of its own. The handwriting was a lot more careful as well.

'Hmm?' Gogo thought, his eyes jumping from the continuity of the chill magic to the strange treat, 'what's...'

His brain finally caught up with what he read.

He nearly spat out his coffee across the table.

'What now?' Siren asked with a frown while Kerr looked up in surprise.

The esper looked down at the page. And shrieked.

"Kerr!" Gogo rasped, tears almost forming in his eyes as he tried to cough the black liquid away from his breathing channels, "what the hell!"

"Hmm?"

The mad brother stood and leaned across the board, starting to tilt his head in an attempt to read upside down. Apparently he recognized what he saw just by the way it was organized as he straightened up almost immediately, pursing his clean lips.

"Ah, that," was the only comment.

"That's all you have to say?" Gogo coughed, Siren shouting the same though she couldn't be heard, "why have you researched this!"

"Not as much researched as read through ancient scripts. I highly doubt it would work in any case," Kerr replied, a little too calmly for him however.

Gogo had to take in a few deep breaths to calm down and stop coughing.

"Another one of Gestahl's ideas?" he finally growled.

Kerr rolled his eyes, swaying his head from side to side to show off his feeling of the subject's stupidity.

"And the walking paranoia strikes again," he commented with a faint grimace.

"Paranoia about turning people into batteries?" Gogo retorted, standing up and crossing his arms as he glared at his brother, "he knew that the espers that already existed wouldn't be able to supply energy forever!"

"Kefka!"

Kerr's voice was so sharp that it hurt like a slap. The madman's eyes narrowed high above his barring teeth as he regarded the face that had been paling with rage.

"The way you blame Gestahl for everything is getting ridiculous, do you really think that I'm innocent?" he snapped, "I knew just as well as he did."

He joylessly smirked at the deepening paleness of his brother's cheeks, finding a twisted kind of amusement in the horror of the other man. He reveled in the sense of power it invoked for a second before snapping out of it.

'You goddamned, sick bastard!' Siren hissed, fighting a burning wish to dive into Kerr's mind and tear it apart.

"I have told you, Kefka," the lord snarled in a cold voice, putting emphasis on the fact that he wasn't using the normal nickname 'Kef', "I have shown and indicated, and you still don't believe me? You do me shame, little brother."

"And are you proud of the crimes that you have committed?" Gogo finally managed to force between his gritting teeth.

Siren finally caught herself and called out a warning to her friend, but it seemed as if the cloud of anger made him deaf to her voice.

"I was..." Kerr began in a loud voice, but Gogo cut him off.

"My sins weren't enough for you, were they!" the mimic harshly shouted, throwing out his arm in a violent bow, "you must do worse and damn people of your own race by transforming them into beasts and drain their power as well!"

Kerr's fists were opening and clenching as his lips drew back in a murderous growl. Siren almost hit her harp in the panicking despair. The notes were flung aside by a white hot wall of animalistic rage erupting from the madman's mind, burning through every sensible thought that had been built up over the past week. The esper drew back with a terrified gasp, seeing her careful preparations reduced to ashes before the source of Kerr's madness that Gogo without realizing it was coaxing.

"Kefka..." Kerr almost purred, like a preying baskervor.

'_Gogo_!' Siren screamed.

He froze for a moment, but she wasn't sure if he had heard him since his mind was an unreadable mess. But for a brief moment she had hope.

Then he spoke again, in a chilly, calm voice but still just as angry, just with a little more control. And no more mind.

"A lot I can forgive," he growled, "but if you plan on playing god with Gestahl and turn humans into espers when the originals die, then you truly have sunken as low as Clyde and the others believed."

The two stared at each other.

Kerr smiled.

People had learnt to fear that smile, but only for a very short time. Espers who now resided in the magicite facility still remembered it clearly.

'_Gogo_!' Siren hollered, '_I can't stop him_!'

"I wouldn't say that you are in a position of handing out forgiveness, dear brother," Kerr said.

The mimic regarded him for a second longer, the flame of anger flaring one last time before it fell into the ashes of sorrow. Had he known what he had done while he was shouting? Maybe so. He wasn't sure. But it was done now, maybe sooner or later than it could have happened, but now he finally realized that this tear was something that nothing could have hindered in the long run – whether it would have been him or Kerr who ripped up their bond once again, the chasm that had cracked open nineteen years ago was far too wide for a bridge to cross.

His hope had been desperate all the time and he should have been able to truly admit it to himself, but in his foolishness allowing himself to dismiss the doubts far too easily. His brother was mad, he had known it. It was a sickness neither he nor Siren could hope to cure as long as the mimic lived, since it had grown from Kerr's weakest point; the jealousy he felt for his brother's life.

"What does it matter anymore?" Gogo whispered both to Kerr and to Siren, in defeat spreading his arms even as he spoke and his brother raised a hand.

Sparkles flew between Kerr's fingertips as he bent his fingers, his burning eyes hatefully nailed onto the man who dared to defy him.

A perfectly alike face, eyes closed in emotional anguish. But no struggle anymore.

Brother.

And for a moment, Kerr hesitated.

It was all Siren needed, her hands flying over the strings of the harp. The music swirled around the poker of hatred inside Kerr's soul, trying to cool it down.

Afterwards, she wasn't sure if it was her doing or if Kerr really did change his mind by own force, but she knew what Gogo would think.

"Bah!"

"Agh!"

Gogo stumbled backwards and fell back into the sofa, his robes adorned with several fizzling burn marks. But his body was left unharmed.

Still in shock he looked up at Kerr, who was forcefully pressing a hand against his face with a groan.

Half a minute passed, and none of the three in the room said a word, seemingly frozen in time. Only the two men's breathing showed that they were still alive. The angry glow of the burns left by the lightning bolts slowly faded from the mimic's yellow robe.

"Brother..." Gogo finally croaked, hesitantly.

"Don't you ever do that again, Kef," Kerr snarled and finally let the hand fall, pinching his eyes shut, "damn, I need another dose..."

For a moment Gogo wasn't sure if he should be irritated over the fact that he was the one receiving full blame or simply be relieved.

'I say it really _was_ your fault, but not because I agree with him,' Siren somewhat dryly said, 'what in Poltergeist's name were you thinking!'

'I was thinking of slavery,' the mimic somewhat acidly replied.

'That I understand, but satisfying as it might be we both know that shouting at him isn't the best way to stay alive!'

Gogo clenched his jaw, nodding weakly in his mind.

"I've told you that I go berserk without my medicine, do you believe me already, oh little one?" Kerr continued as there was no reply, sounding a little irritated again.

"It appears so," Gogo muttered, staring at the table.

"Bro-o-o..."

A fist came into view and pushed the mimic's chin upwards. But the voice who spoke held no true teasing edge, dominated by the dull tone that had filled Kerr's speech just after the withdrawal attack a few days ago.

"Don't make me kill you, I have a feeling I'd feel almost bad afterwards," the madman said, apparently struggling to seem stronger than he felt.

Gogo tried to swallow the bitter taste in his mouth, gently but with a still shaking hand taking a hold of the fist and lowering it.

"Always a comfort," he said and tilted his head at the bathroom, "go take your pills then, you'll probably feel better."

'For now...' he sadly added to himself.

From the corner of his eyes he saw the green robe swing as Kerr turned, and he listened to the steps, distant clatter of pills and running water.

Eyes not really registering it bitterly stared at the fated page in the book, at the notes of a spell that could turn a human into an esper.

'Will this work?' he finally thought after several seconds.

Siren didn't answer at first, it seemed like she turned around from keeping an eye on Kerr and for the first time gave the text a study.

'Turn the page,' she murmured after a while.

Gogo did so, revealing another half page of careful text. The page to the right described a healing spell, in the same messy handwriting as always.

'I'm not completely sure,' Siren eventually said after a couple of seconds' more scanning of the text, 'but it could probably work. He's gotten it down pretty we…!'

She jumped in surprise just like Gogo as a hand shot forwards and grabbed the book, ripping it out of the mimic's hand.

"I think this isn't meant for innocent eyes such as yours, baby bro," Kerr said, with a quick movement tearing out the page with the lone spell.

He threw the book back to the table, clenching his hand around the torn paper so that it became an uneven, gray ball. With a swift movement he sent it towards the middle of the room in a wide bow. It caught fire in midair and fell over the carpet as snowflake ashes.

"Much better," Kerr said, wiping his hands with the shadow of a smirk.

Gogo wasn't sure how to express the feeling of relief over seeing his brother destroy the atrocity by own choice, but he got no real chance to speak right then. Kerr stretched a bit with a yawn, starting to state another opinion.

"I think that's enough for toni… the hell?"

The two men and the esper snapped up at the door, and the loud knock at it.

"Lord Kefka! General Aglie requests your help!" a muffled man's voice shouted.

"At this hour?" Kerr dryly said.

He exchanged glances with Gogo who raised his hands to the level of his shoulders with a sigh.

"Here we go again…"

"Exactly," Kerr nodded, snapping his fingers with a small smirk.

Gogo's feet left the floor and he was flung into the wardrobe on the other side of the room, stumbling backwards into the collection of robes as he landed and the doors silently shut before his nose. The last thing he saw before his sight was almost completely barricaded, was Kerr sending the books and extra coffee cup into hiding under the sofa with a circulating movement of his hand.

Well, that was one cup nobody would drink from again without a complete wash…

Kerr stormed to the door and ripped it open.

"What is it _now_!" he snarled, "I was finally about to go to sleep and I get _grumpy_ when I'm disturbed this late!"

He paused for a moment before the frightened soldier had time to defend himself.

"Or is it early?" the lord said in a thoughtful, calm voice.

"Three in the morning, my lord!" the poor messenger managed, cold sweat staining his dark uniform from the inside.

His helmet didn't feel quite as assuring as it normally did when lord Kefka seemed to glare through it.

"Aglie better have a good reason for calling me now!" the blond man growled, to the soldier appearing twice a normal human's size.

Somehow, fear managed to unlock the tongue that it itself had paralyzed for a moment.

"A magitek armor malfunctioned in the barracks and is wreaking havoc, my lord!" he croaked.

Kerr glared at the man.

"Can't Ugly boy take care of that himself? And why activate one of those at this hour?" he demanded.

"I… I don't know, my lord… o-orders!" the soldier stammered.

"Oh, whatever…"

Kerr swept out of his room, slamming the door shut behind him. The soldier fought against the will to slump against the wall in relief and hurried after the madman who pranced down the corridor at a surprising speed.

Gogo carefully stepped forwards and out of the wardrobe, watching the closed door to the outer world thoughtfully.

'Something must be going on if they activate their devil's toys,' he worriedly thought.

'Yes… I hope our friends haven't made a mistake,' Siren agreed in the same tone.

'Truly… but Kerr would have received word about that, wouldn't he?'

Siren was silent for a couple of seconds.

'What if he did know something?' she grimly pointed out.

Gogo shook his head.

'He can't keep something like that secret. Trust me.'

'He's managed to keep your presence out of other's knowledge as far as I've noticed.'

To herself, Siren added the musing about whether or not that was really something to trust in either.

'True, but… no, I'd see through him.'

Gogo shook his head and stretched, rubbing his stiff neck.

'In either case, there's nothing we can do about it before he comes back,' he finally said.

'I sup- now what!'

Siren was cut off in the same alarm that made Gogo jump; a second knock on the door.

"Lord Kefka!" another man's voice called through the wood.

The mimic backed towards the wardrobe, praying that the lock spell that Kerr had promised eight days earlier truly would hold if needed.

As there was no answer, the man called and knocked again, louder this time.

"Lord Kefka! His Majesty summons you!"

'Something is _really_ going on tonight…' Gogo thought, clenching his teeth as he stepped into the wardrobe and with the help of the hooks on the inside managed to pull the doors shut.

He couldn't be overly careful.

"Lord Kefka, it's really important!" the messenger called and knocked again, a hint of panic in his voice.

'Can't the idiot realize that _he's not here_?' the mimic growled to himself and his invisible companion, who shook her head with a frown.

The handle of the door made a creaking noise as it was tested, but apparently the lock held.

Then there was a fizzling sound and a half strangled cry of pain followed by a curse. Gogo's eyebrows went up.

'He tried to dispel the lock,' Siren explained, frowning deeper, 'let me see…'

It was the first time she actually moved outside of the room ever since her arrival, and when she tried to go through the door itself she found that Kerr's spell to keep people from leaving and entering was a truly solid magic work. It stopped even her, a wandering mind. She solved this by poking her unseen head through the wall instead, watching the figure who spun around and hurried off again as he was out of ideas.

'One of those men in red robes with hoods,' she reported, 'some kind of scholar warriors, aren't they?'

'They are high ranked officers yes,' Gogo clarified as he stepped out of the wardrobe once again, 'specialists, advisors. At least, that's how it used to be. I suppose that they are mages of some kind nowadays.'

Siren thoughtfully watched the door.

'Peculiar…' she murmured.

'Very much so, I'd like to know what's going on here tonight. How far from your magicite can you go? Kerr might be gone for a long time.'

'Hmm…'

Siren floated through the wall and forwards through the corridor. But after just a couple of feet she felt a pull draw her entire ethereal body backwards, as if she was stuck in tough toffee.

'Not far enough I'm afraid, maybe if you held my magicite and let me borrow some of your power,' she told Gogo as she turned back in defeat.

The mimic considered this for a moment, then shook his head.

'No, we can't risk that Kerr comes back suddenly and sees you,' he finally said.

Siren found herself smiling at his worry for her, and the knowledge that it was an act of self-preservation as well mattered very little. They were in the same trap, after all.

'Then the only thing to do is to wait, I suppose,' she said, the smile still in her voice.

Gogo smiled at thin air, in his eyes a hint of surprise at her suddenly soft tone. She almost chuckled at how adorable that one seemed.

'Ah well…' he fleetingly agreed and headed for the sofa.

Bending down he managed to pick out the book he had been reading from the dusky underside of the furniture, recognizing the worn, brown back of it. Sitting down he let the pages flash past his thumb as he searched for the place where a page had been torn so that he could get back to studying.

Siren retreated to her magicite to let her soul rest a little after the tension earlier with Kerr's berserk act. She realized that the handful of days which had passed by smoothly had made her a little soft on the lookout. The memory of her incapability to restrain the madman also sowed a bitter taste in her mouth now that she could think it over. She had trusted that anchor she made, and more than that; Gogo had trusted it and her to be a safety belt in case something happened. She as magicite could lie there under the wardrobe safely for a long time to come – which didn't sound too tempting, but better than the esper facility – but the mimic could have died.

'Damn it…' she sighed.

Perhaps she had made the connection to Kerr too weak after that time when he had felt her presence… or he was stronger than she had thought. She couldn't regard any of those options as heartening.

With a grunt she shook her head and looked back at Gogo. He was turning the pages of the book idly, apparently not too interested in the reading.

'Maybe you should get to sleep,' she told him.

He shook his head.

'As tempting as it sounds, I doubt I'll be able to.'

She didn't have to take a closer look to know that the page he once again stopped on was the part which was now torn. The bitter smile that threatened his lips said it all.

'I still trust him,' he stated out of the blue, 'it's those damn pills that worries me.'

Siren just shook her head, unable to find a good answer to that.

Slowly Gogo closed the book and let it slide in under the sofa again. He stood, massaging his neck for a bit. Then he idly walked out onto the floor, walking back and forth for almost a minute.

'No rest for the wicked?' Siren commented with a chuckle.

Gogo let out a low laugh at her amusement, but then his smile died down.

'I might just be too tired but I have a bad feeling…' he muttered, though his tone assured that he hardly believed what he was saying. He wasn't a very superstitious man to heart, and it could have been the first time in his life that he said those words.

Siren, being a magical being and knowing that there were many things that humans should put more faith in, frowned slightly again.

'About the Returners?' she questioned.

'No, nothing that perceptible,' Gogo replied, sounding surprised at her serious tone.

'Ah well…'

Siren let him know that she shrugged to calm any worry that he might have. He had enough on his mind without her messing things up even more.

Gogo stood still for a moment, but then resumed pacing.

On his fifth or so turn, he stopped while turned towards the door, looking down at the carpet. At this point, Siren watched him somewhat sluggishly as she had begun to settle, but there was little else to look at so he still held her fading interest.

The mimic bent down on one knee, reaching out his pointing and long finger.

An oily piece of ash stuck on his fingertips, and he turned his hands to look at the flakes that had been part of a hideous spell.

He started to rise up again.

The door clicked and began to open.

Siren looked up, expecting to see Kerr. She saw who it was one second before the man looked into the room, and she screamed.

Gogo was completely taken aback by his friend's shriek as he hadn't noticed the door, too caught up in his own thoughts. He stumbled and fell to his knees with a gasp.

"Kefka, are you aslee… what the hell!"

The mimic's eyes flew to the door in horror as he heard the voice, his gaze being pierced by the ice-cold stare of the only man with enough power to break the mad lord's spells.

'We're dead, brother…' was Gogo's last thought before Gestahl's storm of pure energy hit him square in the chest.


	27. This is gonna sting, a lot

Chapter 27, Extreme situations…

Siren clutched her harp desperately, her right hand pressed against her mouth in horror. Like a plaything for madmen, Gogo hit the floor several feet from where he had been crouching when Gestahl first saw him, needle-thin lightning bolts crawling over his twitching body. A big, burnt area now adorned the chest of his robes, looking far worse than the blackened holes Kerr had given him hardly twenty minutes ago.

The emperor marched over the floor, snarling in rage. With surprising strength he grabbed the fallen man's collar and glared at the pale face as if he needed to assure himself of what he had seen.

Gogo's eyes were closed but his lips slightly parted; the blow had thrown him out of the conscious world.

Gestahl's thinning gaze scanned the old burns on the yellow clothes and for a moment the frown eased a little in brief hesitation. Then his elderly, cruel face constricted in rage again.

"Kefka!" the emperor snarled with a glance over his shoulder, straightening up and throwing the helpless Gogo aside.

The mimic pathetically groaned when his helmet slammed into the floor, but he drowned in the darkness again before he could make it out.

Gestahl's long, graying beard and hair crawled against his regal, red robes like hungry snakes as he walked back towards the door in quick, powerful strides, his enraged mind set on somebody who would have to answer a few questions.

The door slammed shut and for a second it glowed in a sickly green light as the emperor renewed the lock to assure that the strange finding wouldn't go anywhere even if he woke up.

For a couple of seconds, Siren remained frozen in complete terror.

But eventually the harp slid out of her grip to float beside her as the esper's hands flew to her hair. Fingers drummed against the spirit's skull, desperately.

'What can I do, what do I do… what? _What_!'

But nobody could hear her silent cries.

'Gogo…!' she croaked, staring helplessly at the motionless body.

Even if she had been able to wake him up, it would help very little.

Him…

An avalanche would have hit her more gently than the merciless thought that attacked her vulnerable mind.

'No… no… not that…'

Siren wildly shook her head, refusing to accept that there was no other choice.

But staring at Gogo's broken form, sprawled painfully over the carpet, she had to face the truth.

Each second was too precious to waste, she knew that. Still, she had to press her hands against her face in order to collect herself before she reached out a set of trembling fingers and took a hold of the harp again. Pressing the instrument against her chest for both practical and psychological strength, she forced her mind into focusing. She had to struggle, two times her attempts failed because fear shattered her will completely. But the force of the situation was as merciless as the emperor whom she had to help fooling.

There…

Swallowing hard out of habit, she reached out.

The palace turned blurry around her as she pulled at the distance, biting her lower lip not to scream.

As she stopped Siren allowed herself a very brief respite in order to look around, to make sure that it was safe.

Safe?

She could have broken down in hysterical laughter.

He was just telling some tall, dark-haired man in the empire's shady uniform for generals that the soldiers should stop come crying for help in the middle of the night. The other man's eyes almost literally shot daggers; yet another one in the fan club.

Behind the two, soldiers were stumbling around a broken down shell of a magitek armor. It was smoking dangerously and one of the arms had been blown off – that one laid a few feet away beside another dark and sleeping armor by the wall. At least ten machines of destruction were lined up against the walls of the dusky, long room; it appeared to be a hangar for the weapons.

Siren struggled, her magicite was too far off and trying to rip her back. But she couldn't allow it to do so, she was already feeling weary from the night that had so far passed and the journey to the military base had taken a lot out of her. It was very questionable whether she'd be able to try this again, and the fact that she was apprehensive like a calve walking towards a butcher didn't help.

'Go away already!' she screeched, clutching her harp tighter.

Smirking he swung around and walked out of the open, dark slide doors of the storage, the general still trying to make his head fall off with glares alone.

There were more soldiers outside, but they fled away from him as he didn't look very pleased either.

Somebody would still see him, but Siren could wait no longer as the gravity of the remains of her body was clawing at her by now.

Closing her eyes tightly she flung herself forwards, past the wall of thoughts and emotions, into the core. The pull from her remains was cut instantly as she entered a new base point.

Kerr stumbled in surprise, his right hand flying to his forehead as an intruder plunged into his head.

The esper already knew that she sealed her fate one way or another by committing this sacrifice, but she was not sure how.

The first thing she felt was cracked, hard ground under the thin soles of her shoes, the impact forcing her down on one knee. It felt utterly alien to be "solid" again, but she had no time to care about such things.

"Your brother is in danger!" she screeched above the strange buzzing sound filling her ears, blindly ducking in an attempt to avoid the attacks that his sensitive mind might instinctually launch at her.

Siren had been aware that it would take more to make him listen, therefore she was not very surprised when a chilly hand roughly grabbed her arm and forced her to look up.

All that was visible above the woman was a pitch-black sky torn up by ragged, grayish clouds. But closer to her and demanding more attention was a ghastly image of Kerr, completely true to life save the color. Siren could pretty much see her arm through his bluish hand, as well as the similar robes that waved threateningly in the sharp wind. And his eyes were flaming in a crimson glow, petrifying her with their merciless anger.

"An esper? In _my mind_!" Kerr hissed through his teeth.

She stumbled and lost her balance as he shoved her backwards, crashing onto both her knees. Desperately clutching her harp she forced herself not to cower as the burning eyes glared down at her, the madman's spiritual grip still holding her arm so tightly that it felt as if it would break. Of course, since they were both ethereal it was more like he was almost breaking off a piece of her soul.

"G-Gestahl found Ke-Kefka!" she snarled, unable to keep her voice straight.

She had to fight a scream of pain as his grip tightened even more.

"What did you say!" he roared, the glower burning her skin.

"The emperor!" Siren screeched, by now vainly trying to tear herself free, "he came looking for you!"

Kerr's eye thinned for a second.

With a snarl he flung her arm out of his grip and straightened up. The image froze like a statue, and instead his voice rung out from a distance:

"What are you staring at? Go find yourself something to kill!"

He couldn't concentrate on the world around him and his unwelcome guest at the same time… Siren leapt to her feet, quickly backing away from the ghastly personification and changing the grip of her harp.

As the image came alive again and glared at her once more, she had managed to assemble a few strands of courage. Enough to keep her standing and facing him.

"I came to warn you, demon," she said, forcing her voice to stay firm and cold, "Gestahl will want to know why you secretly kept a Returner in your room."

His eyes just thinned further.

"Humor me before I rip your head off," he spoke with a deep growl, "on why I would consider listening."

Siren figured that her only way to get out of this hellhole was brute force. Brute mind force. Sending a silent prayer to Bahamut, she spoke up again.

"I can give you two reasons. First the fact that your brother is currently lying unconscious on the carpet of your room with a rather nasty burn mark over most of his chest."

It was with extremely tentative hope she noticed a glistening of hesitance in Kerr's flaming eyes as he straightened up a little, still scowling death however.

"The second would be…"

'Please make it work, all good forces, please…'

Her fingertips strung a few golden strings, their melodic vibrations sending sharply red sparkles through the air. The magic fire disappeared after a moment, but the effect was immediate.

"Augh!"

Siren nearly sucked in her breath, forcing her eyes not to widen in the pang of relief at the sight before her.

The image of Kerr stumbled, pressing his hands against his head. It seemed almost as if the flames of his eyes dripped towards the ground when his eyeballs rolled, and as he finally managed to stand straight a moment later he seemed a little more transparent.

The gaze was however rather tangible.

"That," Siren said, hoping that her voice sounded less like a croak than she thought it did.

Kerr's harsh intake of breath made the entire area tremble, but the esper stood straight. Now she knew that she had a weapon after all.

'About time that anchor proved useful!'

Maybe.

"When I get my hands on you," Kerr sincerely spoke in a low hiss, "Thamasa will look like a moogle picnic."

Siren clenched her jaw at the mention of the massacre this man alone had completed. For a moment the part of her screaming for revenge for her people almost made her fingers run across her harp again – but she held herself back. She would not sink to his level.

"You keep your hands off, dirty old man," she replied instead, forcing a snicker which grew wider as he snorted, "or I'll fry your mind better than those pills could ever dream of."

"Really…"

There was still dangerous anger in his tone, but also something else which she couldn't define though it sent an alarming chill down her spine. She willed herself to push it aside not to risk any sign of weakness.

"Yes, really," she nodded, "now get moving or people will start wondering why you've been standing still, staring into space for several seconds."

"You're selling yourself with your orders," he promised, but the image froze again as his body acted.

A few selective curses whispered through the dark world, echoing and distant as they weren't spoken aloud but merely his thoughts.

"I can hear you just fine," Siren informed, as sternly as she could though some of those lines would give a dragon cold sweat, "meaning that you don't have to concentrate so fully on me to have a conversation."

She saw it coming and quickly raised a mind shield to protect herself against his retort; a mental image of what he was planning to do with her at first chance. The shield stopped the direct slam, but she still got a hint of the gross picture.

How the attack looked as a tangible thing was hard to explain, but since she was inside of a mind the laws of physics meant very little. The image appeared as a deformed bubble hurled from Kerr's mind avatar, the swirling form about the size of a normal head. It crashed against the lightly green, transparent wall Siren conjured between her and the attack.

"I am a mistress of the mind, demon," she hissed, with all her might using the shield to push the image away.

It dissipated and she heard a cold chuckle echo, completely devoid of humor.

'And I am a bloodthirsty psychopath, so watch your step, woman.'

"I can set your mind on fire at any second," she retorted.

'Touché,' he dryly thought, 'don't let your victory party keep me awake all night though. I'll need to be able to work on a list of all the things I'll let you survive before I crush you.'

Siren wouldn't allow herself be intimidated as long as her upper hand was still in effect. Even if she knew that behind the seemingly fruitless threats was a promise to break her grip – and she knew that he probably could find a way too. If she kept using the anchor against him he'd eventually find out how to duck away; she'd be a fool to believe that his insanity made him too unstable for things such as that. More ironic than ever was the fact that her reason to be a pain originally had been to heal him. Now that intent had surely expired in any case. The only thing to do was to keep him occupied with other things.

"You are too late," she proclaimed with dry triumph, "I'm already dead."

She should have trusted the little voice in her head saying that those words were of a poor pick.

'I know,' he replied, a hint of cruel cheerfulness in this information.

The chill went down her spine again, and this time it was so forceful that it shattered every hopeful doubt.

Somehow he had pinpointed that her magicite was somewhere in his room. There went a large chunk of hope.

'Damn it…'

Siren pressed her lips tightly together, nervously changing the grip of her harp before she could stop herself.

'Gotcha,' he smirked.

He won.

At least that round.

"You really are disgusting," she bitterly said, glaring at the dark sky.

'Why, thank you.'

His tone changed, so suddenly that she almost jumped.

'But for now, what of Kefka?'

The esper took in a deep breath and pursed her mouth, trying to assemble the last pieces of meaning she could find in the her situation.

"It's not for your sake I'm doing this, you know," she muttered, so bitter that one could cut it with a knife, "I'm not your informant servant."

'Of course, it had to be cute somehow. Sickening.'

"Just saying that it's his fault," she snapped before she could swallow the anger over his mockery.

'Whatever. I wouldn't care even if you were in love with a donkey.'

"Wha…!"

'Esper, _just tell me what happened_!' he growled, quickly growing impatient.

Seething at his idiotic insolence Siren was about to give him another dose of the more violent art of music, but again she stopped herself with the thought that she was far better than that. Better than him.

"Fine," she snapped instead, "but you might get wobbly so you better stay somewhere out of sight."

'There are paranoid morons everywhere I look!' he sighed with a scornful smirk.

Siren took in a deep breath and then spoke in a dangerously calm voice.

"Kerr. Gestahl already has one reason to believe that you are a traitor. Do you want him to find you acting strange too? Then again I for one would very much enjoy seeing you trying to survive in the Coliseum…"

'I'm sure you would,' he said in an idle voice, almost as if he was busy weighing her words against his pride.

"Oh yes. But it would mean Kefka dying too, and you are his only chance of survival. If there even is any at all."

She fought back a grimace for telling him that he was a hope, but it had to be said.

'I already conquered the world, so have a bit of trust in my abilities ye of little faith,' he smirked, sounding rather amused whether it was at her or his own twisted humor.

"I hope that cockishness will be your demise, o fool," Siren grunted with a roll of her eyes, "I might as well give up right now."

'Fine with me, but are you going to tell me what happened or not?'

Again there was a hint of impatience in Kerr's voice.

"Where are you then?" she pressed, finding a bit of bitter enjoyment in making him irritated.

There wasn't much else left that could remind of happiness now, so to her it was invaluable.

The annoyed snort almost made her chuckle, even.

'I've left the barrack area and is in one of the smaller corridors leading to the main one, there's not a living thing here at this hour,' he snapped.

"Will do. I'll show you what I saw, so lean against the wall or something."

'Fine, fine… get going already.'

Siren didn't feel good about closing her eyes considering her position, but she had to in order to concentrate on her memories and hand them over to Kerr. Ribbons of silvery light flowed from her head and melted into the dark air of the madman's mind.

As she did this, she momentarily lost the memories herself and for a few seconds she found herself desperately wondering what in Poltergeist's name had driven her to show herself to Kerr. But in the next heartbeat he let out a low grunt aloud and the ribbons flowed back to her.

'Oh yes… that was it…' she briefly thought before Kerr started thinking again.

'There is no problem,' he snorted, 'Gestahl caught Kef looking like he was trying to get up from the floor and there were burn marks on his robe.'

"And now you are prepared to answer to him," Siren snorted back, "I _have_ heard of your acting skills."

For a short moment, he didn't reply. Then, gruffly:

'Having a bloody point goes on the list of why I'll turn you inside out.'

"Is this when I should feel honored?"

'I don't have a self-help booklet for women in a jam, so you'll have to figure that out yourself.'

"Then I'll pass."

'Oh, I'll cry me a river.'

Siren opened her mouth to express her hopes of him drowning, but paused and took a step backwards, shaking her head as realization of what the heck she was doing came in.

"I've been around Gogo far too much…" she grunted, rubbing her forehead.

'"Gogo"?' Kerr repeated, idly bemused.

The esper grunted.

"It's what your brother wanted the other Returners to call him," she informed in a much stricter voice again.

Her host was silent for another moment.

'Gogo. Right.'

"Whatever!" Siren snapped, "are you still standing by the wall?"

'No. Way ahead of you,' Kerr snorted, 'now stop pretending you're a queen or I'll get cranky.'

"You mean in the way of hopping up and down like a frog, yelling 'I hate you' multiple times?" she smirked, "excuse me for not being intimidated by that one."

'Smartass.'

"Monster."

'Speak for yourself.'

"I'm an esper, there's a difference."

'Just because you obviously belong to Goddess and not Doom or Poltergeist's troupe.'

"It matters little. Now shut up."

'It's my mind, woman.'

"I'm not having this conversation."

'Funny, I thought it sounded like you did.'

Rolling her eyes, Siren just shook her head. This was getting ridiculous, fast. Trying to get her thoughts off the whole idiotic conversations she took the first good look around. The first thing she noticed was the end of the world a few steps behind her. The cracked ground she stood on appeared almost like newly cooled lava, but it wasn't shaped softly like the goo of red hot molten rocks would normally be. Instead, a sharp, uneven edge zigzagged against the black sky, the ends of it nowhere in sight. The buzzing sound seemed to come from below.

Siren took a couple of steps forwards for a quick glance. It turned out that it wasn't really buzzing, but a combination of pitch-black waves and whirlpools far below the cliffs, only seen due to the foam their force drove up. Like the cliff, the ocean went on forever.

"I wonder what would happen if I pushed you in," Kerr's voice said, his avatar standing just behind her.

Siren fought down a dear wish to shriek and fight against him as the ice-cold hands roughly grabbed her bare shoulders.

'Don't show fear, don't show fear, _don't show fear_…!'

"It'd probably be very uncomfortable for both of us," she snarled, trying not to let her voice be too high-pitched.

She could feel him smirk.

"Probably, but it'd surely be interesting."

Then his cold left her alone again and she nearly slumped to the ground in relief.

"And here comes the old geezer I think," he muttered as the image of him turned still again.

Siren tensed. Quickly stepping away from the edge of the cliff and more importantly from Kerr's frozen avatar, she reached out with her mind and sought for a way to see through her host's eyes. He obviously didn't like the idea of her mucking about his mind more than she already was, as her search hit an unseen mental wall that nearly sent her to the ground again.

'Sit still, you damn maggot!' his thoughts snapped, 'how much attention do you think I can waste?'

"The kind that lives for about three seconds unless there's blood," Siren growled more automatically than anything else.

Understanding that a struggle would leave obvious signs in Kerr's face if not also the rest of him, she resigned to the fate of just listening. It'd have to do.

In the corridor, Kerr halted his newly begun steps when Gestahl – as the lord had guessed from the sound of the paces – came around the right corner a few yards away, from the main corridor.

"Why, emperor?" the madman said, bowing exaggeratedly, "is everyone awake at this hour?"

Inside his head, Siren raised her eyebrows as she also heard the man's thoughts about the approaching emperor. How could such scorn for an old, slow fool _not_ be obvious on Kerr's features? There was also a good deal of more obscure whispering that she couldn't really make out, but she was strongly guessing that it was forcefully suppressed worry about slipping on this test.

Gestahl was moving closer fast, and opened his mouth. He didn't look very pleased, no. Kerr quickly cut him off before he could speak.

"Oh, allow me to guess, it is because of the attack on Maranda? Ugly boy told me already, worry not. I'm…"

"Shut up, Kefka!" the emperor snarled, throwing out his right arm in a cutting movement.

"Eh? Now what?" Kerr said, raising his eyebrows.

The fact that he truly became a bit surprised at the pure force in his superior's voice was a blessing for his act.

Gestahl's arms folded across his chest, and the cold eyes flared with rage as they regarded the man before him.

"I sent for you, but you didn't answer the door which was locked," he informed in a chilly voice, "but as you know now, I required your presence since the Returners just started a riot in Maranda."

"You could have just called me through magic, emperor," Kerr cut in, managing a smirk despite the knowledge of where this was going.

"Subtlety, Kefka," Gestahl snapped, "now keep your mouth shut and let me finish!"

"But of course, sire…" the madman assured, raising his palms while still forcing the smirk to stay in place.

"Thinking that maybe you were asleep and didn't hear the call I went to your room myself and opened the lock," the emperor said, the growl growing deeper, "now, do you have any valid explanation to why you secretly kept your brother, whom you claimed had run off with the Returners, in your room?"

Kerr fully well knew that he was under a very scrutinizing stare, and he dared not risk trying to play stupidly and obviously falsely innocent even for a moment, despite the chances of it assuring his madness. But it was too dangerous. Instead he dove for the throat; raising his hand to press a bent finger against his lips while he raised his eyebrows. The touch helped the wry snicker to stay where it should.

"What, was he standing up or something?" he said with a forced, fake cough, "and I was sure that he wouldn't be able to move for at least a few hours after that…"

The anger in Gestahl's eyes flickered slightly, but only for half a second. He didn't answer, instead he kept watching his pawn with a dangerous blaze still there.

Siren bit her lower lip, the silence drawing out like a torture session. She was starting to seriously debate for risking a call of encouragement to Kerr when he finally spoke up again.

"My dear emperor," he said, wrapping up his cloak around himself in the well-known, fluid movement, "you must excuse me, but I am a tad bit egoistic. Can you blame me?"

"Hm."

That was all Gestahl said, but with that simple comment demanding a better explanation. Luckily for most involved, for once Kerr's sadistic mind was good for something.

"When I first told you of his return," he went on, gaining confidence as the emperor listened with slowly ebbing fury, "my full belief was that every last one of the cockroaches had run off, all the others were gone, no? However, after you had left that day, my _dear_ blue-eyed fool of a brother revealed himself. Would you believe that he really _was_ in the bloody wardrobe?"

The memory of that ironic truth helped Kerr to smirk, and also chuckle cruelly. Even Gestahl's lips twitched ever so faintly by vague surprise before returning to the petrified state.

"As I understood he had hoped to try reasoning with me once more, but I smashed that hope out of him rather quickly. Emperor, forgive a humble servant's simple pleasure of slowly squeezing the life out of his own flesh and blood."

Sarcasm could be reaped from that last line.

"I knew that you'd rather have him imprisoned or beheaded," Kerr continued, "but though I am fine with that, I felt that after all the time apart we both deserved a little… fun. And he wasn't going anywhere as I'm sure you noted with the door."

"He could have given us vital information, Kefka!" the emperor pressed, however the immediate anger had melted considerably as this explanation was quite believable – though it lacked common sense. But what could be expected of this psychopath, really?

Kerr nodded, smirking still.

"Oh, but he did. The ship I theorized about, remember that? While scheming normally isn't interesting I made an exception to get to keep him for myself a little longer. I assure you it was the only time that happened, it was too much a strain to keep a straight face."

"What of the Returners?" Gestahl demanded, the practical query now, at least for the moment, weighing higher than suspicion.

Kerr shook his head with a sigh.

"It took me forever just to make him choke out that of the boat. He didn't know exactly where they had landed, only that it was somewhere south of the western cliffs. Since we already had our forces searching that area I felt no need to spill those beans."

"But nothing was found," the emperor pointed out, eyes thinning again, "they got away by the ship then?"

"Oh trust me, had I managed to pry him open earlier I would have reported immediately, but he's grown tougher over the years," Kerr assured.

The emperor pursed his mouth.

"Well? Where was the ship from then?"

'Shit!' the madman thought before the question was even finished.

That was one thing he'd forgotten to plan and his brother hadn't even told him anything about a ship to start with. He couldn't afford hesitation, if he stumbled the whole act would crash.

"A fishing ship of Figaro, what else!" Siren shouted as she felt the thoughts starting to race above her.

She could have said Thamasa as was the truth but then that town would pay the bill. Figaro castle was safe at least, and already under full blame. One more accusation wouldn't change anything.

"A fishing ship of Figaro, what else?" Kerr automatically spoke, despite the surprise of his own reaction remembering to shake his head with a grimace, bowing his head slightly to veil the true feeling.

"Of course."

Gestahl scratched his chin thoughtfully, the sound seeming to echo in the silence.

"As much as I dislike your course of action I suppose that I can accept it this once," he finally said and continued with a much sharper tone, "just don't let me catch you doing anything like this behind my back again."

"Certainly not, sire. I apologize _a thousand times_," Kerr assured, raising his hands in a shrugging movement.

"I'd rather see your brother dead or inside your wall, however," the emperor stated, frowning.

Kerr sighed.

"Dead? How boring… he's spent a good time in the wall already, my dear emperor, he's probably starting to like it even. Probably better than waking up on the floor with half of his bones broken."

The emperor had regarded his pawn in silence during this whole rant.

"And to think," the older man finally said, "he chose to return by own will, Kerr."

Siren flinched as she noticed from the whispering thoughts that her host didn't react on the name, too used of hearing it from his brother.

'By Bahamut, you _idiot_!'

"'Kerr'! He called you 'Kerr', Doom take you!" she shrieked, her nails nearly breaking the strings of her harp as she clawed at her instrument's heart.

Flaring sparkles rushed into the dark air, streaming from the esper's single weapon as chords broken and false by the panic fell from the golden threads.

On the outside, this caused Kerr's face to constrict in sudden pain – but when it came to him, all pain went hand in hand with anger.

"_What_?" passed between his teeth, more to Siren than to Gestahl.

But the emperor wouldn't know that last fact, with satisfaction watching the reaction that his test had called forth.

Trust Kefka's word, how believable the twisted logic might seem? Not so fast. But apparently the imperial lord hadn't dulled one bit about his name, and therefore his hatred for the who could question that name couldn't have sunken a single inch.

Just to make sure.

"Either he's stubborn beyond belief, or his madness rivals yours," the emperor added.

Just to add up.

He didn't fully know what he caused with those words.

Siren shrieked in surprise as a sudden earthquake shook the dark world, so violently that she was flung onto her stomach. Despite deeply missing her body, the pain of having her skin scrapped against the rumbling, uneven ground was something she could have lived without – which of course was something she normally, as merely a soul, wouldn't have felt. Pressing her harp against her chest she curled up, assembling all her powers to create a pool of peace.

A protecting, shimmering bubble formed around her, completely still in the shivering world of Kerr's soulscape. Letting out a sigh of hesitant relief she got to her feet, worriedly looking around and upwards.

She couldn't see much of the ocean due to the curve of the cliffs, but the clouds were swirling around as if a tornado was forming.

That just couldn't be good.

"I… wouldn't… say… that…" Kerr snarled, his eyes starting to glaze over with a red mist of rage.

"Oh, of course not… Kefka," Gestahl mildly said.

He nodded at his slightly crouching, shivering pawn.

"We will arrive at Maranda in about an hour. I will call you then, so be prepared."

The only reply was a wordless, animalistic snarl.

Smiling slightly Gestahl walked past Kerr, heading towards the barracks to speak with general Aglie. The smile turned into a full smirk as he heard the explosion behind him.

Excellent.

As stumbling, shock-awakened servants and soldiers came running to see where the sound had come from, all they found was a large burn mark on the metallic floor, the iron still red hot and in the middle of the mark even just beginning to coagulate again. Kerr was long gone, on his way to his room. And his brother.


	28. Possessive bugger, isn't he?

Chapter 28, Impossible diplomacy

Siren winced as she listened to the torn pieces of thoughts that now stormed around her bubble. She could only make out a little from the howling choir, but what she heard was less than calming.

'_Damn you damn you damn you no rival no rival **nobody NOBODY** kill! KILL HIM_!'

"By Goddess..." Siren croaked, raising the harp with hands shaking almost as much as the dark landscape.

But as soon as touched the strings, the ground beneath her cracked and several pitch-black tentacles shot up from the stone, slamming into the protective bubble and sticking onto it. The shake threw the esper off balance and she fell to one knee, the dangerously creaking sound of the delicate walls around her ringing in her ears.

"Oh no...!" the esper hissed and leapt to her feet, clutching the harp against her chest.

She had to get out of the cracking mind, and _now_. Kerr's storming rage had worked far better than any cold logic ever could have with him; found a way to use the anchor against her. Now he might be able to feel - even if vaguely and for now rather unable to read the signs on a higher level than instinctual - every assault she could try just before she attempted it. And counter. This theory was painfully proven as Siren's palm hit the bubble's wall. Instead of popping open to let her out so that she'd be able to flee back to her magicite, the transparent surface flashed into a sickly shade of green that spread out from the dark tentacles.

With a shocked mix of a gasp and shriek the esper slammed her fist into the wall, but only gained a throbbing pain that shot up through her entire arm and sent her stumbling as far backwards as the rounded space allowed.

She was trapped.

"Kerr! Stop!" she shouted in pure desperation, trying to get back on her feet, "you're letting Gestahl control you!"

A thunderclap tore through the racing sky far above and for a brief moment Kerr's blue ghost of an avatar flicked past in the violent flash. His teeth were bared in a murderous growl, the red blaze covering his eyes completely. Siren reeled backwards, slipping on the smooth surface of her prison and with a desperate cry barely managing to avoid crashing down again.

And then he was gone once more.

'_I'll deal with you later_!' the winds howled before descending into the boiling witch-brew of ripped sentences.

Siren cringed violently, her legs loosing all will to carry her any longer. She sunk down on the bottom of the bubble, wildly running a hand through her hair as cold sweat broke through her skin.

What would Gogo do! He was the only one who possibly knew how to calm this rabid monster!

Gogo...

"Kerr!" Siren hollered, pressing a palm against the greenish wall between two tentacles, "who means the most to you, that old fool that you're forced to serve or your brother!"

The reply shook her prison so violently that her rattling jaw nearly smashed all of her teeth.

'**_Me_**!'

Groaning in pain the esper crawled back up in a kneeling position, pressing both hands to her face as she struggled to regain orientation. But as she forcefully closed her eyes in an attempt to block out the throbbing of her every nerve, she saw a flash of the dark underside of the wardrobe where her magicite laid. Sucking in her breath she clenched her hands into fists and tried to focus her will on that disappearing vision. Maybe, maybe...

It returned to her, the dusk surrounding the magic rock. And seen in the narrow opening towards the rest of the room, Gogo's still form on the floor. Siren bit down on her lower lip and reached out, trying to pull herself towards that point, away from the magical cage.

And hit a wall.

She almost broke down sobbing with anguish. There was no escape...

And as she still clutched that contact with her magicite, she noticed a distant glow behind the mimic's leg. From the door. Kerr had reached his room.

"No!"

She struggled to stand, loosing her grip of the harp. It miserably clattered against the glassy floor.

"Kerr, stop!"

The door opened and slammed shut, she saw the movement of it though she could hear no sound.

'_DAMN YOU_!'

Clawing at her own cheeks as she desperately tried to come up with something, _anything_ that could stop the psychopath, Siren had to wrestle down a cry of anguish. In her own frothing mind she could find no rescue for her helpless friend-

'Helpless...' flashed back through her mind.

Her neck straightened up almost violently.

'Please... please...'

"Do you know what his last thought was?" she shouted, voice breaking as she continued, "he thought 'We're dead, brother' before Gestahl attacked him! He was more worried about _you_!"

She felt no change, only saw Kerr's feet moving closer across the floor. With a screech she slammed her palms into the greenish floor before her knees.

"Kerr, _please_!" she screamed, fully aware that no prayers ever had made it through to this sadist, "Kefka, stop it!"

'_Damn you damn you **Gestahl**_!'

Siren snapped upwards with a startled gasp.

Shivering from head to toe she raised her gaze and stared upwards at the swirling clouds, which turned a strange brown hue due to the green ceiling. Slowly and with unsteady rips they began to slow down. The earthquake around the bubble rumbled on, but it also started to die out.

'_Nobody nobody no rival nobody can_ have him!'

As the violent noises settled she could hear Kerr's ragged breath and the pained groan he let out as he fell to his knees by Gogo's fallen form.

'God, my head...' was the thought that finalized the peace.

And relative stillness returned to his soulscape, the distant waves taking over the scene of sounds.

One of Siren's hands came to her chest and pressed against the alien feeling of a thundering heart, the racing blood - that by laws of physics shouldn't even exist in her - accompanied by the trembling breaths sucked into and fleeing her lungs.

As she turned her inner sight back to the position of her magicite, she vaguely saw a gentle bluish light flowing over Gogo's body, doubtlessly from Kerr's hands.

"Was that what you planned all along?" she whispered without thinking, definitely not meaning for him to hear it.

'I don't know... I don't know,' the landscape idly murmured, trying to sound chilly but failing badly.

Gogo groaned and slowly opened his eyes.

His world swam for several moments but a pleasant warmth was washing through his veins and fighting the blur. At first he couldn't remember anything, and the sight of Kerr's more than normally pale face staring down at him with a dark expression just confused him.

"Bro...?" he croaked, disoriented.

Then he gasped as a hand came down on his chest suddenly, knocking the delicate wind out of him but sending a forceful, and at the same time tender stream of healing powers into his very bones.

He could have sworn that he heard Kerr mutter something that sounded like "mine!" as the older of the two reached down below the younger's shoulders and helped the mimic sit up.

And unpleasant memories flared back down into Gogo's brain as he heavily leant against his twin. He winced.

"Gestahl..."

"Yeah. Nice work, you blockhead," Kerr bluntly said.

Gogo hesitantly met his brother's gaze.

"Now I have to kill you," the lord of the empire said.

Siren cringed. Gogo blinked, opening his mouth to speak.

But Kerr almost gently pressed the fingers of his left hand against his brother's lips before any sound made it out, smirking tiredly.

"Silly little Kefka. Thought I meant it, didn't you?"

Gogo slumped, not that he had been able to tense much considering his state.

"Bro," he croaked, "don't make jokes like that after I just went through a near death experience, thank you."

"Oh fine... now..."

Kerr's eyebrows furrowed and the smirk died.

"Where is that magicite?" he demanded in a much colder voice than a moment ago.

Gogo froze while Siren slumped to the bottom of her prison, closing her eyes tightly.

"What?" the mimic harshly whispered.

"Kefka. There is an esper. Inside. My. Head."

Kerr sternly scowled at his brother's uncomfortably shifting eyes.

"I know they can't try to possess a person without direct contact, don't you think some tried when I held magicite in the past?" he snapped, "now _where is she_?"

Siren couldn't see the faces anymore, but she could hear fully well what was said. The strings of her harp would leave markings on her chest after this clutching.

Gogo took in a deep breath.

"And what," he croaked, "will you do with her if I tell you?"

Kerr's glare could probably have set fire on a piece of paper, and his unnaturally strong fingers were tightening rather painfully on Gogo's shoulder. But in this, the mimic refused to yield even if his mind began to spin with new pain after only a couple of seconds.

"I warn you Kefka, don't try my patience right now. I'm not in a good mood."

Siren heard from the mimic's new deep breath what he would answer. Prepared to face the repercussions.

No.

With a tight lump in her chest she let her head drop.

"Leave him be," she bitterly grunted, "I'm under the wardrobe."

Gogo almost jumped as Kerr's painful grip suddenly loosened. His quizzical state of mind was however sent plummeting together with his heart as he watched his brother turn around and reach out his hands towards the piece of furniture that had protected the mimic a few times. But the hand pointed more towards the floor.

"Kerr..." came a broken whisper between the dry lips.

No reaction.

Siren tried to swallow to get rid of the sandy feeling that had conquered her mouth and throat, but the moving muscles just set themselves on fire. She tried to look away but it seemed as if her inner eye suddenly was locked on watching through her magicite. Her magicite, her remains, her body that helplessly slipped out of hiding and then rose above the floor to zoom towards Kerr's unforgiving hand.

She cowered with a half-strangled gasp one moment before the filthy impact.

It never came.

Kerr flicked his fingers and the magical rock flew over his hand, landing in Gogo's surprised, weak grip. Astonished, Siren straightened up in her prison and stared at the black world that spread out around her.

The creepy mind avatar of the madman flashed into existence before her and again she backed, hesitantly.

He reached out, placing his palm against the green wall.

With a popping sound the bubble broke and the tentacles fell to melt into the black ground. Still shaking a bit, Siren took a step forwards while the avatar faded away.

"Is everybody satisfied, then?" Kerr sarcastically said, but not angrily anymore.

He smirked in amusement at the face before him and the expression he could feel on the esper's features.

"We have to get you out of here now."

Silence ruled for a moment while Siren floated out of the dark world and dove into the warm embrace of her magicite, its softly green surfaces gently caressing her aching mind with its familiarity. In there she "turned over on her back" and tiredly looked up at the twins. Gogo was watching his brother with disbelief.

"Get us out?" the mimic finally said, "it would have been hard enough before Gestahl found me here."

Kerr shrugged.

"The best bet would be to dress you up as me and just walk away at any given chance," he loosely said.

He huffed, thoughtfully.

"On the other hand you'd be killed by the first chicken laying eyes on you outside."

"What I rather wonder about is what would happen to you when Gestahl finds out that I'm gone," Gogo grimly said, frowning.

"Both of you are going to make me sick one of these minutes," Kerr sighed, rolling his eyes.

But then he placed his cheek idly on his fist.

"Though he would probably want to see a body if I claimed I killed you, and an illusion wouldn't work. Bloody notion."

'Can't exactly blame him for that, sad as it is,' Siren muttered, heard by both the brothers.

"Now is really not a good time to start leaning onto other sides, esper," Kerr grunted with a dry leer.

'Don't you get me started on that,' she snorted back, 'which side are _you_ really on?'

"Mine."

'Figures.'

Kerr chuckled slightly, then noticed the look on his brother's face.

"What?" the older of the two said.

"Am I missing something here?" Gogo deadpanned.

"Oh no, we've just evolved our sweet little relationship ever since she barged into my head trying to turn my soul inside out while squealing '_your brother is in danger_'," Kerr informed in a stupidly high-pitched voice, entwining his fingers into a platform and dumping his chin on it while glancing down at the magicite, "makes you nostalgic doesn't it, you little striptease dancer?"

"Striptease dancer?" the mimic blankly repeated with raised eyebrows while Siren's eyes darkened in frustration.

"Haven't you seen her, bro?" Kerr smirked, his lips twitching madly, "they pay a lot for such 'ladies' in Zozo."

There was a limit. And this was it.

The harp's strings shivered violently and the grin turned into a grimace as the insane lord's hands flew to his forehead.

"Brother?" Gogo exclaimed, reaching out with his free hand.

But Kerr waved the fingers aside, still pulling a constricted face.

"Oh, just the little lady trying to act like a nanny," the older twin snarled and then shook his head, straightening up with a somewhat calmer look again.

'You'll get worse than a headache next time, mark my words you idiot!' Siren snapped.

Gogo quickly hid her magicite behind his back, catching his brother's forehead with his other palm.

"Kerr, calm down!"

"Don't be such a wimp! I won't hurt her... much!"

"Please, brother, we don't have time for this!"

"You're forgetting what you're talking about with whom!"

But somehow, though a good part of her wanted to duck and cower, the more amused than homicidal smirk on Kerr's lips kept Siren from being overwhelmed by fear. And it seemed that Gogo felt the same.

"Come on, take this later you buffoon!" he tried with a strained voice due to the power needed to hold his brother back, "I still don't even know why Gestahl came here and blasted me across half the room!"

Kerr let the arms fall with a roll of his eyes and sat back.

"You're just a bore," he grunted while his brother and Siren breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry," the mimic grunted, "but now please tell me what the hell is going on here tonight."

The lord shrugged.

"Not too complicated," he said, "there's a riot in Maranda, apparently some of the Returners snuck in and freed the prisoners. They're probably on their way to Figaro by now on whatever ship they snuck up to the coast with, but we're heading down there anyway to see if there's anything to be done. But the prisoners were running westward according to the last report, they're surely long gone from land by now."

Gogo opened his mouth but forgot what he had been about to ask as another thought struck him like lightning.

"Kerr..." he said, "from which direction is the floating continent heading towards Maranda?"

Siren sucked in her non-existent breath as she realized what he was thinking. It appeared that Kerr didn't though, as he calmly tilted his head while he thought.

"Oh, let's see... we went from dispatching more troops in Narshe, Nikeah and South Figaro after circling the desert for signs of the castle, then headed to Jidoor to stock up on tributes... from the west and heading south east then."

He paused, then smirked as a realization plopped up.

"Oh, I see. But the whole army is afoot around all the exits by now, I'm afraid. You won't be able to hitch-hike."

"That wasn't what I thought about!" Gogo exclaimed, grabbing his brother's shoulder in a wave of panic, "what time is it!"

Kerr raised a disdainful eyebrow, but suddenly sobered a little bit. And then smirked even wider.

"Past dawn. If they're on a ship towards the north..."

"... They're almost guaranteed to be seen!" Gogo hissed.

"Yeah, the coast will soon be crawling with our ships from the docks belonging to original Vector, too. How very delightful."

"_Kerr_!"

The madman rolled his eyes dramatically at his brother's shout, with a grunt grabbing Gogo's wrist and ripping the hand away from his shoulder.

"Alright, alright, I hear you," the older one snorted, "but it's not like I'd help them even if I could."

'If I had the power, I could try to reach Maduin,' Siren growled, looking up at Gogo though none of the men would know that, 'if Terra is among the Returners that came to save the prisoners, he will be able to speak with her.'

"Even so, what if she doesn't have his magicite?" the mimic questioned, not daring to let his hope bloom so easily.

'It doesn't matter, ever since it was established their bond has been strong enough to cross any distance.'

Siren shook her head.

'But I'd need quite some help to even hope searching for him, we don't even know if he's in Figaro castle or closer by. If that is of no help I'll search for any of the other espers, hopefully the Returners brought at least one piece of magicite on the mission. But Maduin is the strongest of the free, he would be the easiest to find... if I could.'

She pressed her hand against her face with a groan, wondering just what in all hells she was doing.

Gogo looked up from watching the dancing flame within the stone he held and met his brother's eyes.

"Kerr..."

"Forget it," the lord huffed, crossing his arms and shaking his head, "what do you think I am, a goodie two-shoes boy scout? Think of something better, little one."

The mimic's eyes grew thin.

"Because of you I spent twenty good years a gigantic worm's stomach," he spoke in a calm, dangerous voice, "you owe me this much for that."

Kerr glared.

"I lived in constant vigilance because of the monsters down there," Gogo added, resolutely.

Kerr glared.

"Didn't sleep a full night during all that time because of those beasts."

Kerr glared.

"Lived basically on raw, sun-starved vegetables."

Kerr glared.

"It was really damn boring."

Kerr sighed.

Setting his sights on his own eyebrows and eyelids which shivered scornfully with the sigh, he held up his palm.

"Oh what the hell... gimme."

"All well, Siren?" Gogo wondered, slowly raising his hand with the fingers curled around the smooth surface of her magicite.

'Can't be much worse than dying, I think,' she sarcastically grunted to mask her twisting disgust, 'drop it.'

She cringed as her remains landed in Kerr's palm. She couldn't feel anything through the magicite due to the lack of nerves, but the mere idea of resting in the murderer's grip made her feel mentally nauseous.

"There's no chance that anybody that shouldn't do so can hear this, I presume?" Kerr somewhat dryly said as he raised the magicite to the height of his chest and added his other hand to the hold.

'I'll be trying to set off straight towards Maduin,' Siren grunted, 'it's impossible for others to notice that. Unless I crash into their minds, but I have better knowledge of heads than to do that.'

"How fantastically comforting," Kerr sneered.

He closed his eyes and frowned. As he focused his will, his robes bellowed briefly in a wind that couldn't exist. The flame trapped within the green rock flared up in reply, almost filling its prison completely.

'Take it easy, will you?' Siren shouted, each word more distant than the last.

"You're talking to the wrong person there, lady," Kerr replied without opening his eyes.

His robes settled, but the magicite kept flaming in his grip, giving his face an unworldly brownish glow.

Gogo watched all this happen in silence, nervously fidgeting with his robes as he switched between worrying about his allies, and worrying about Siren's sanity. She seemed to suddenly have lost all sense of self-preservation.


	29. Smooth, oh how smooth

Chapter 29, More diplomacy

Siren sped forwards through a blurred, bluish void streaked with white. She vaguely recognized the blur below as it switched between blue and green to darker green and back again. This was moving above the world at the speed of a thought. Interesting. At least, for this one time, Kerr's powers were used for something good.

    She focused, searching for that muscular, horned and fatherly presence of Maduin, trying to call out to his mind. 

    Several blurry seconds passed before she received a distant reply, one colored by surprise. And as it did, a tiny red spot appeared in the blur. Siren smiled briefly to herself as she dived towards the darker blue. She saw a flash of gray, then brown, followed by the twisted jungle of a mind… and came to a halt in a softly flowing landscape.

    Lush green hills rolled around her – literally – and swirls of color swept around her bare feet, somewhat resembling flowers though they appeared to have no constant form but moved like bubbles of unruly water. But despite the overall beauty the sky was cloudy, and a few thin, dark streams ran through the grass like polluted rivers.

    Terra had a healthy soul, but it was still troubled by the state of the world and what she had already gone through in her young life.

 'Wha…?' the half-esper's thoughts somewhat groggily echoed through the soulscape as Siren fully landed on the soft ground.

    Maduin stood up from where he had been sitting on a smooth, rounded rock, blinking in disbelief as he regarded the friend he thought had been lost.

 "How did you get here?" his warm voice rumbled as he took one step forwards and then suddenly stood before the triumphantly smiling guest, a moment ago several feet away.

 "I'll explain in a minute," Siren promised, reaching out to place her hand in his offered palms, longing for the familiar touch of another esper, "first…"

    Her expression turned grim. 

 "The floating continent is on the way to Maranda from the northwest, will the Returners that set up the riot be safe?" she quickly asked. 

    Maduin's big, yellowish eyes bulged slightly and he opened his mouth in disbelief, but then caught himself and looked upwards. The information screamed louder than new questions. 

 "Terra, are you listening?" he called.

 'Yes father, I'm on my way to tell Setzer!' she thought back, no trace left of the exhaust that had been in her thoughts a moment ago. 

 "We should be safe but…"

    Maduin's voice trailed off and he looked down at Siren. As he had spoken those last words she had allowed her tension to fade and with that the power to keep her standing straight. As she lowered her guard, the strain of everything that had passed in the last hour threatened to come crashing down on her blond head at alarming speed.

 "Siren!"

    The beast that Doom long ago had created out of a man quickly caught his swaying friend's arms and gently helped her to sit down in the grass, placing himself beside her so that she could lean against his impressive frame. 

 'Are you alright?' Terra called out, sensing what was going on in there.

 "You… won't believe it…" Siren murmured, gratefully letting her harp slide into the grass as she curled up against the furry warmth of Maduin.

    The male esper frowned, worriedly placing his big hand on her shoulder to give her a little of his strength. His fears abated a bit as he when doing so felt that it was only exhaust that tugged at the frail-looking mind esper. 

 "What in Goddess' name has happened with you since last time you were with us?" he asked.

 "You won't believe it…"

    She listened to the whispering thoughts of her current host and breathed a sigh of relief as she from that realized that the Returners weren't stuck on a regular ship, but one that would bring them to safety far more easily.

    In the more worldly world, Terra pushed her way through the inside of the Falcon, muttering hoarse excuses to the freed prisoners she made it past. Most inside had already settled on the floor, but more were still stumbling down the stairs from the deck as they still hadn't finished loading everyone onto the airship. The wounded man whom the half-esper had been healing before Siren came crashing in had been left with a still stinging wound in his leg, though the worst pain had been removed.

 "Is something wrong?!"

    Terra vaguely heard this being shouted at her from all directions, snarling out something in reply as she fought her way up the crowded stair to the outside. There was almost no place for the men to move to in order to let her through, even if they tried as they saw her wide eyes and clenched teeth between parted lips. Few were fully aware of who she was, but the fact that she was clean and had clothes that weren't rags was enough for the freed men to know that she hadn't been in Maranda's cells. Which, in turn, meant that she was one of their current commanders.  

    The prisoners assembled around the stair entrance stumbled out of the way as Terra busted up through the Falcon's bowels.

 "_Setzer_!" 

    The sudden disturbance of the thankful, tired murmur and unstable sound of insecure feet caused a halt to everything. 

    The gambler looked up from where he had been standing by the gangway, casting healing spells over the last men to come up on the Falcon's deck. By the stern and stem respectively, Locke and Celes turned around in surprise from their suspicious viewing of the landscape.

 "Is there a problem?" Cyan's voice came from the ground, automatically though not without a wince reaching for his sword.

    Despite his willpower he knew that he was sagging; for the first time he was prepared to admit that he was becoming too old for some things. The battle and the rush from Maranda, guiding the small army of limping, weakened prisoners all the way to the Falcon while trying to keep a bleeding cut on your own shoulder under a healing spell was quite an ordeal. 

    He vaguely saw Shadow on the other side of the gangway, past the frozen feet and legs. The ninja would, to anybody not knowing him, have appeared unfazed. But Cyan had seen his comrade's eyes closed a couple of time. Now the man in black uncrossed his arms in alarm however, and Interceptor's paws softly bounced against the grass as the dog stood up. 

    Terra's gaze ran over the frozen, surprised and mostly hairy faces around her, for a moment nearly panicking at their sudden lack of movement.

 "Don't stand around, hurry!" she called, violently waving with her whole arm at the tired men to get going, "we have to get out of here, _now_!"

  "What is it?" Locke shouted, leaving his vantage point to hurry towards the half-esper as fast as the crowded area around the stair allowed. 

    The new recruits meanwhile caught on and forced their tired limbs to bring them up to the planks, making use of the deck's size as much as possible. 

 "Siren told me-" 

    Terra cut herself off, realizing what panic it would cause to announce that Vector was coming at them as they spoke. 

 "I'll explain, but we have to leave here first!" she amended, "go south! South!"

    The last bit was to Setzer, who was making his way towards the wheel. Somehow the men managed to create a narrow path for the gambler to quickly reach his destination. He almost pounced at the control panel, skidding to a halt before crashing into it after the violent breakthrough from the crowd. Still people where everywhere around him as he tried to take in a calming breath and turned his head in an attempt to look at Terra. She was now staring intently towards the west, causing everyone else to do the same. 

    But even as Setzer looked in the direction of her stare but saw nothing, right then hardly having the nerves to believe that nobody else did. Only white streaks of thin clouds adorned the green-blue morning sky, peacefully floating about their own business and mocking his nervous gaze, unwilling to show him the danger he needed to know about.

    That moment of staring was cut short however as Terra realized that all movement had slowed down again. Quickly she started ushering the rebels down the stair to get out of the way. 

    A couple of chaotic minutes followed, with people trying to move too quickly on too little space accompanied by nervous mutters from all around and questioning shouts from below about the ruckus on the deck. Only when Celes, on the outskirts of everything, managed to raise her most authoritative general voice to half a roar did some order return and the rebels managed to cram themselves down the stair at a fairly steady pace. 

    Still the seconds seemed to race by far quicker than they should be allowed to, Terra finding herself throwing desperate glances at the western sky more and more often.

 'Where exactly is Vector?' she called to the new esper in her mind. 

 'I'm not sure,' Siren replied, exhaust lining her mental voice, 'I know that they would arrive to Maranda in about an hour, and that was over ten minutes ago.'

    That had to be enough time… still Terra had to bite her lower lip to keep from letting the wave of fear take over. It was still far too close for comfort, more than only their lives were at stake. If the Returners lost the Falcon, they would loose their most important trump card. 

    And she still did not dare to voice her worries, not with all these distraught men still crowding the deck and trying to get out of the way efficiently so that they'd be able to take off towards safety. 

    Finally, after what appeared to be ages, Cyan and Shadow wandered up the gangway last, with Interceptor in tow.

 "We art prepared to leave, Sir Setzer!" the last warrior of Doma called as soon as he touched the deck.

    The gambler hardly waited for his ally to finish before he hit the button that caused the gangway to fold behind the last warriors, the wood still being retracted into its pocket below the deck's planks as Setzer fired up the engine. Gracefully the Falcon rose up from the ground and turned with the orders of the wheel towards the south, starting to soar off as soon as it was high enough up to pass the treetops in the distance. As it continued to rise up during the flight however, the branches became no obstacle.

 'Stay as far up as you can,' Siren instructed, 'there might be imperial ships along the coast.'

    Terra experienced a stitch of paranoia as she heard this, hurrying towards Setzer to give him the information without letting loose all hell's panic. There were still too much people on the deck to risk that kind of thing. But how could the empire possibly get the news and set off their troops so quickly? If it hadn't been for the fact that she trusted her father to see through any trick, she would surely have wondered if Siren's warnings were a trap. As it was, she just briefly feared something like that but shook it off. 

 "How does Gestahl do this!?" Setzer hesitantly hissed as he heard the news, almost as if he heard Terra's own thoughts on the matter.

    But he naturally hit the gas even harder, nevertheless. 

    As the landscape far beneath them turned from green to blue, the last tired prisoner had stumbled down the stair.

 "We'll get this sorted out and inform you as soon as possible," Locke called down at the quizzical faces staring up at him from below when he passed the hole in the deck, "just be patient, we're safe for now! Just get some rest, we'll start healing you again soon!"

    Though Terra still hadn't said anything more, from her actions he had read that it was best to keep the new rebels calm and unaware. 

    The original Returners assembled by the control panel, all eyes on Terra who kept glaring towards the western horizon.

 "Now what is it?" Setzer demanded, knuckles turning white as he held on to the wheel while almost breaking his neck to look at the half-esper. 

    She turned around with a frown, nervously resting her left hand on her sword hilt.   

 "I suddenly got a message from Siren," she said in a low voice with a glance at the square hole a few yards away, "she says that Vector is on its way to Maranda."

    Questions about the esper's sudden appearance got stuck in a few throats.

 "We should be alright though, now," Terra quickly added for the shocked looks that surrounded her, "according to her they'd come from the west."

    She reached up and rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. 

 "How the-" Locke asked, grimly watching the sky in the dangerous direction.

    His words disappeared in a sharp hiss, which sent everyone's full attention towards the direction of his stretched out arm and finger. 

    It was just a dot, but still a dark spot on the sky that cut against the blue sky and pure clouds. But as the Falcon was speeding away from it, the tiny blemish soon disappeared from view. 

 'What is it?' Maduin called out to Terra's mind, the shock that had completely frozen the young woman's soulscape slowly dwindling.

    The two spirits carefully sat back down as the green hills began to gently roll along and the dark rivers in the grass once again thinned. That had been an ugly sight indeed. 

 'Vector…' Terra replied, still sounding very tense, 'but it's not visible anymore. We got away.'

    The Returners weren't the only ones letting out relieved breaths. 

    Terra waited for a few seconds, intently watching the sky to make sure that the floating city wouldn't magically reappear and deliver to the Falcon the same fate as the Blackjack. When her breathing began returning to a fairly good rhythm, she turned her focus onto her own mind and asked the obvious.

 'But how can you be here, Siren?'

    The esper looked down at her knees to hide the fact that she couldn't keep from biting her lower lip. Oh, this would be just peachy to explain… 

 "It's a bit of a long story…" she started, taking cover behind something so clichéd that it practically screamed "bad news!" to the ones listening.  

    She had already gone over this to herself ever since she first suggested trying to contact Maduin. And had reached the conclusion that there wasn't really anything she could say that would keep everyone from screaming bloody murder at her.

 'He's going to kill me…' she concluded, from the corner of her eye seeing Maduin's huge, clawed paw-hand reach for hers in a calming gesture. 

    Or at least fry her really well. If this didn't brand her an insane traitor, she didn't know what would. 

 "Siren?" Maduin gently murmured.

    She gulped in an attempt to clear her mouth of the sour taste that had crept over her tongue.

 "You… just don't jump to conclusions, alright?" she whispered, fully realizing that she was almost begging.

 "Now you're starting to make me nervous," the great beast tried to joke.

    His voice was too filled with worry to make it seem humorous however. 

    Siren closed her eyes.

 "Gogo is alive, and I am alright. It's all thanks to his inhuman cunning in diplomacy," she said very quickly, all in pretty much one breath.

 "Alive, Gogo?" Terra repeated aloud, frowning at the sky in confusion.

 "_What_?" Shadow incredulously demanded, his eyes widening in a rare case of the ninja being completely taken aback.

 "He's diplomatic?" the half-esper added, clumsily trying to sort out her own confusion and relay Siren's message to the other Returners at the same time.

 "What are you _saying_?"

    Shadow's hand landed on Terra's arm, causing her to jump slightly. She turned around to see the confused faces around her, realizing how incoherent she must appear to those who only could hear her and not Siren.

 "I mean…" she began to amend.

    But then her father's voice cut her off.

 "You must be joking…" Maduin growled, though his voice was almost threatening, his eyes were instead wide open in disbelief. 

    Siren wouldn't look up, hugging her knees still with the harp in one hand, which pressed the instrument against her thigh and side.

 "I'm not sure how he managed, no," she muttered in a hoarse voice, "but Gogo made Kerr… Kefka…"

    She couldn't continue, hardly surprised when Maduin's first reaction was to edge away from her in shock. Even if the realization had begun to dawn on him, her confirmation was apparently a blow.

    It didn't ease her darkening mood to distantly hear how the other humans shouted at Terra, doubtlessly because of the face she made. 

    Siren's guess was rather accurate; the half-esper fumbled for something to hold on to while all color drained for her face. Shadow turned out to be a convenient support, even if he flinched away by instinct at first.

 "Terra!?"

    Hands reached for her, friendly, careful hands. But she shut her eyes tightly, trying to get the name Kerr to work together with information that had just saved their lives. No, no… that just couldn't be anything but a…

 "It's not a trick!" Siren hastened to assure, straightening up in an attempt to seem much calmer than she felt, "Gogo talked him into it…"

    Maduin just stared at her as if she was insane. Unable to keep from doing so, she groaned and pressed her free hand against her forehead. 

    Okay… calm. Calm and steady.

 "Look…"

    She didn't get further before a sudden blow of power sent her toppling out of Terra's head in a flash of blurred light, vaguely hearing the half-esper sharply gasp as it happened. Next thing Siren knew, she was floating just a couple of inches above the Falcon's deck, staring at six blinking Returners and a dog. The blue and orange morning sky equally spread out around the ship, adorned with smooth whiffs of clouds blushing in purple. 

    A quick glance downwards informed her that she could see the deck through her arm, hardly a hint of an illusion. 

    Wha…

 'I can _hear_ some of what you're _babbling_,' Kerr's voice snarled in her mind, the surprise causing her to jump in front of all the people that already were shocked enough by seeing her and having heard Terra's incoherent mutters from before, 'I'm on a _schedule_ here. Toddle along already!'

    Siren held back a smirk as she immediately came to the conclusion that he was just itchy because he knew that he was doing something good this one time.

 'Though itchy apparently isn't the word,' she thought as a string of death threats followed up on him hearing her opinion of his message. 

    It was somewhat amusing to really see – hear – Kerr being royally irritated, without toppling over into violence. At least on this distance, even if she was well aware that it hardly was a truly safe one. But she sobered within a moment, knowing that this definitely not was the time to be idle. Especially not with the strange looks she was collecting.

    … One strange look coming from the stoic Cyan. Terrific. Just the one she really wanted to explain any relation with Kerr to. They just _had_ to have brought the most hotheaded avenger with them, right?

 'If you don't get this done right now, Kef will be busy with glue and a magicite puzzle later on,' came another impatient mental push. 

    Siren bit back a comment and instead focused on the people before her.

 "I'm short on time," she hurriedly said, "as I told Terra, Gogo is alive because he managed to talk his brother into letting him live."

    The first response was nothing but blank stares. 

    Then, in a very low, growling voice, Shadow spoke. 

 "Brother?"

    Siren's fingers nervously tip-tapped against the frame of the harp, and she only nodded silently.

 "Gogo's brother… is Kerr, Siren."

    The plain fact sounded almost comical, and would have fully appeared so if it hadn't been for the dangerous tone of the ninja's voice. 

    The stares weren't blank anymore, but had turned into skeptical scowls. Cyan's hand was even floating towards the hilt of his sword; Celes had crossed her arms and her eyes were growing thin as she scrutinized the esper suspiciously. Even Interceptor seemed to regard Siren with distrust. 

    Peachy.

    The only one who wasn't glaring by now was Terra, who looked more distant. She was probably listening to something her father said.

 "Listen to me," Siren started again, fumbling for some kind of understanding despite all logical sense, "I know it sounds crazy… but Gogo has spent all this time since we parted, with Kerr. Even if he's almost gotten killed several times he's made it through."

 "How in all hells would that be possible?" Locke glowered, crossing his arms in what probably was a subconscious mirror action of what Celes had done. 

    This would take too long, and in the end they probably still wouldn't believe her. But there was another way. If it worked, that was.

 "Give me a moment, I'll show you my memories," Siren said, raising her harp. 

 'Give me a bit more power,' was what she told the distant anchor, several miles away.

 'What was that? I thought you wanted me to be more careful, esper,' Kerr replied, drawling.

 'And who's the one being short on time?'

 'It is not my problem whether they believe you or not.'

 'But it is your brother's,' Siren very calmly pointed out.

    Strike.

 'You'll owe me big after this, woman.'

    She refrained from answering that, in a well secluded thought wondering if he understood that that had been one of his more effective threats. It was, for once, something he was right about.

    But that musing flashed away when she nearly was fried from the inside by the explosion of magical energy that Kerr so very kindly sent. With a hoarse choking sound she quickly ran her hand along the strings of her instrument in an attempt to hide the jolt of pain. 

    Since she wasn't inside a mind this time, and several people were involved, it was more difficult to hand out her own knowledge. The music helped her focus and worked as a catalyst for the magic. 

    It was no surprise that the Returners at first drew back in distrust when the thin ribbons of light crawled out of her peacefully flowing hair. The esper halted the advance immediately, waiting in order to give them a chance to see that she wasn't trying any attack. 

    Offhandedly she dryly thought that she probably reminded of Medusa right then, with the tendrils of magic snaking around her head; that woman being one of the less friendly looking espers. 

 "Father says that it's not dangerous," Terra finally slowly said after a few moments, taking a step forwards.

 "I assure you that it isn't," Siren nodded, gently moving the links of memories towards the young woman. 

    Of course, the female esper's affirmation surely meant very little, but at least Maduin was still considered trustworthy. 

    When Terra showed agreement, Celes stepped forwards as well though she still looked doubtful. Locke shrugged in a weak attempt to appear casual and followed the former magitec knight. Clyde, Setzer and Cyan did the same after a bit more consideration.

    Siren sent a ribbon each at them all, and images flowed through her mind only to pop out of her memory as she transferred them to the humans. From the moment when Gogo hid her under the wardrobe and – though deathly afraid – hurried back to his fallen brother, through the first fragile peace and onwards to the moment when Gestahl entered Kerr's room. She cut out the details about the spell that Kerr had burned, thinking that the Returners probably would sleep safer not knowing that such a thing had existed. They didn't need anything more to worry about. Other than that she didn't leave out anything, even if it wasn't pleasant to hand over memories of the madman's mind. 

    It wasn't a very peaceful exchange; especially Cyan snarled aloud whenever another reminiscence of the madman was given. 

    After having sent of the last memory of how Kerr finally gave in and took her magicite in his hands, Siren retracted the ribbons and reclaimed her memories. The images would stay with the humans that swayed slightly as the mental insertion left again, even if they wouldn't be able to remember as clearly as Siren did. It would hopefully be enough. 

    Interceptor growled dangerously as his master pressed his gloved hands against his head in unnatural confusion. The esper couldn't be scared of any attacks from the monster of a dog, but she read the behavior as a clear message. 

 "I'm sorry about the dizziness, it'll pass soon," she promised.

    There was no clear answer, apart from a few grunts that sounded rather far down on the rate of delight. With little hope Siren opened her mouth in another hopeless attempt to calm the Returners.

    She got no chance.

 "I _really_ have no time to wait for you to kiss their booboos, witch. Say ta-ta for now, like a good girl."

    Siren nearly screeched in a mix of surprise and outrage, but perhaps by luck no sound made it over her tongue before she was pulled away from the Falcon. The last view she got of the warriors and the dog was of them turning rigid as pokers and their wild eyes racing towards her – or rather, the voice that had rung out from her direction.

    Kerr really had a special talent when it came to rip up hope.  


	30. And the smoothness strikes again

Spot the book-reference in this chapter and win a free applaud!

Chapter 30, Complications ahoy!

 "Why in Poltergeist's name did you have to do that for?!"

 "My, how perky we are!"

 "They were almost listening to me, damn you!"

 "Too bad for you then, pipsqueak!"

 "You're risking-"

 "I don't have time to deal with your headaches, woman! Take your monthly fits somewhere else!"

 "If they kill Kefka when he gets out of here, it will be your fault!"

 "Cry me a river of blood and pour poison into it you-"

 "Uh, you two…" Gogo weakly said, raising his hands in a calming gesture.

    He nearly reeled backwards due to the glares he got. Not enough to send him flying; but at least they did succeed in making his arms fall, accompanied with a few blinks on his side.

 "You stay out of this!" Siren and Kerr chorused, then froze for a moment before engaging in an even angrier scowling contest. 

    The mimic leant back with a small shake of his head. This just couldn't lead to anything good… as if he wasn't worried enough about his other friends' state of mind. 

~*~

Their saviors were silent. That was the first thing that the freed prisoners noticed.

    Faces pale and jaws set in stone even when they muttered spells of healing, the original Returners wandered through the bowels of the Falcon – almost absentmindedly tending to the prisoners. 

    Very few dared to ask what was wrong even if they all wondered about the strange things that had happened a short while back, but nobody got any answer apart from:

 "It's nothing to worry about, we've dealt with it."

    Most of the prisoners being too tired and hungry to press for more information, there was little argument. 

    As Locke and Cyan quickly set up the cooking equipment and started warming two pots of meat broth with finely chopped vegetables in, two queues immediately lined up on the bottom floor of the ship. Setzer had been reluctant to remodel the inside of his lost love's airship, but rather than risking something being set on fire he had allowed some cleaning out after it got clear that the Falcon hardly would be used for pleasure flights in quite some time. The sofas and table on the bottom floor, the bookshelves and the carpet… when looking closer, it had turned out that most of the stuff had been falling apart. Which probably had helped talking Setzer into the changes. Now there were simple camp beds lined up at every space offered, as well as the extra room on the upper floor; most of them occupied with prisoners too tired or hurt to move.

    Or dead, but those were on the floor, laid down beside each other in a corner, arms moved into a cross over their chests. Shadow had mentioned that at least one prisoner had picked up the body of a friend or brother during the fight; now there seemed to be three. Wishes for proper burials in all respect, but it was still creepy and the unmoving bearded men got a lot of uneasy glances. 

    Celes' mind almost automatically kept off the very thought of dead men so close by. She had been in the battlefield for as long as she could remember, it was nothing new even if dead bodies in a homey place like the Falcon was a bit off even for her. For the time being though, she was busy staggering towards the edge of utter exhaustion, coupled with anger and confusion. At least she knew that she wasn't alone, but that didn't help much. 

    That there had been a twin of the psychopath, she had seen and somewhat learnt to cope with – mainly under the premise that he had been dead ever since the flight from Vector. Even if Terra and the newly reunited family of assassins and natural magic users told her and the rest of the Returners of the mimic, he still wore a hated face they hadn't learnt to know as an ally, and never would. But now he was suddenly the man who lived, lived to face _Kefka_… well, _Kerr_ then, and even dared to argue with him – and _still_ managed to survive. 

    _AND _could talk Kerr into helping an esper send a warning to the Returners.

    The man was either an enigma in human guise or the most dangerous creature in history. Whatever it was, Celes didn't like it one bit. Something had to be terribly, terribly wrong. She walked as steadily as she could through the aisles of makeshift beds, lips automatically muttering healing spells which flowed out of her hands in the form of gently bluish stars which elicited sighs and murmurs of relief and gratefulness from those she passed. She hardly heard it, straining her ears to hear the crackling of magical electricity and the roaring of fireballs from outside. Kerr would never help, he would set a trap. 

    Though, a tired thought crawled off with, if it was a trap it was far too complicated for Kerr. Gestahl maybe, but he was never really a subtle one either, apart from that time that he lured the Returners to help him look for the espers in Thamasa.

    But regardless, that just did not work out, Kerr was not, would never, ever…

 "Celes…?"

    She nearly jumped out of her skin as a cold, rough hand suddenly closed around her left wrist, tearing her out of her brooding. Apparently she looked rather dazed when she turned to the owner of the hand, because the man let go of her as if he had been burned.

 "Who…?" the magitek knight started, staring down at the worried face. 

    The man lying on the simple bed seemed to be in his later forties, but it was hard to tell since his blond, dirty beard obscured his face. There were however a few white strands in his equally messy hair, around the ears. The ragged, dark remains of clothes gave no other clue than that he had been a prisoner for quite a while – as if the hair and dirt wasn't enough.

    But there was something familiar with the green-blue eyes that anxiously peered back at Celes, they should be smiling… 

    She blinked, brought completely off balance for the second time that evening. This was somewhat more pleasant however. 

 "Cid!"

~*~

The blackened remain of a plank once belonging to a wall cracked under Kerr's boot.

 "Psh, amateurs…" he muttered, turning his head around in a disdainful check of the area around him, "they left most things standing."

 "So says the great man who didn't finish off the Returners in one blow when he had the chance," general Aglie's voice came from behind him. 

    Kerr didn't even turn around, just kept his back at the general while raising his right hand to be seen above his shoulder. 

 "T-t-t," the lord said, for every 't' moving his stretched up pointing finger from side to side in an irritating fashion, "now you step on dangerous ground, my simple-minded friend. Emperor Gestahl was the one who wanted them all alive."

 "And you could have easily captured them instead of sending them flying all over, had you only known a little restraint of your trigger-happiness."

    The general had rather good control of his frustration, but he couldn't fully keep the malice from his voice. Unseen by Aglie however, Kerr smirked widely. He found his work companion's declaration of war nothing but highly amusing.

    It was just too easy.

 "Trigger-happy, me?" he said, cocking his head to the side in badly faked thoughtfulness, "but didn't some tin soldier call me in the middle of the night to clean up a crazed magitek armor for _him_?"

 "Which you destroyed beyond repair, I will add."

    The frustration was definitely more notable in Aglie's voice this time.

    Kerr turned his head, but not to look at the general but to take in the ruins of Maranda again.

 "Well, I might have destroyed an armor, but you seem to have lost us a whole prison… oh dear me!"

    The madman slapped his forehead, letting the head tip back violently with the smack before he straightened up again and threw a mock concerned glance over his shoulder.

 "I suppose that you lost the most then, and thus you win," he said with a deep sigh, "I truly admire your skills of blowing holes in the imperial budget, Ugly."

    He turned away again, basking in the feeling of a death glare trying to blow holes in his neck.  

    It was like stomping on rhodoxes; they squirmed, made funny sounds and dove underground plotting revenge.

 'You're pathetic,' Siren muttered inside his head.

    Kerr rolled his eyes. 

 'Oh sure, just go spoiling my fun. I'll sob a bit later on and then break your back, how does that sound?'

 'Just like all the other threats you've thrown at me for the past couple of hours.'

 'I recall that you didn't act so tough when you were inside that bubble, strip teaser girl.'

 'You try to stay collected when you're carried around by a loon with the wit and temper of a berserking were-rat.'

 'You forgot the looks, princess Scream-a-lot,' Kerr reprimanded, obviously enjoying the mental banter as much as the loud one with Aglie.

    Siren pressed two fingers to her forehead, reminding herself that she would _not_ let him drag her down to his level of brain killing banter. Before it was too late. 

 "I warn you, Kefka…" Aglie started, meanwhile. 

    He was cut off by a call and turned around to scowl death at the soldier skidding to a halt before him. The poor private saluted as if his life depended on it, trying to stifle his shaking under the general's glare. 

 "We fo-found so-some more su-survivors, sir, general, sir!" the man in the brown uniform stuttered. 

    He realized horribly well that he would receive a punch later because of the way sir Aglie glowered, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why.

    Kerr swept past the two men, offering Aglie a vague smirk.

 "As much as I adore chatting with you, I suppose that there are less funny things to get done."

    He paused and turned around at the agitated warriors, smiling brightly. 

 "Too bad general Leo isn't around anymore, I'm sure that he'd be able to add a lot more to our conversation if he hadn't dropped dead like that."

    And with that thinly veiled threat, Kerr pirouetted back on course and strode off.

 'You don't scare him,' Siren informed. 

 'Getting there is half the fun. I didn't scare Leo either, at first.'

    The esper pursed her mouth. 

 'Speaking of scaring…'

 'Yeees?' Kerr drawled, hoarsely chuckling at thin air.

    Well, that wouldn't draw more looks at him than usual at least, as he was prone to talking and snickering to himself on a regular basis. Most of the soldiers and workers around him were too busy digging in the ashes of Maranda to care too much about the lunatic, anyway. 

 'You didn't _have_ to do that to Kefka,' Siren grimly said.

 'What? I was gentle about it.

 'Really. He might be dead when you pull him out again.'

 'If the Returners didn't die by being inside the wall for a few months, then he won't be hurt by a few hours.'

 'Even after that smashing?'

 'Well, if _you_ had reminded me to lock the door properly I wouldn't have had to fling him around like that when the soldier entered,' Kerr mentally shrugged, snickering. 

 'Hence the fact that I don't think that you were gentle at all. The soldier might not have seen his face but-'

 'He won't be complaining… much.'

 'Especially not if he can't speak.'

 'That would be really damn relaxing, now that you mention it. Maybe I should rip his tongue out?'

 'I thought you liked talking to him?'

 'Yes, _to_ him. I like the pipsqueak better when he's not whining about things like people dying and the cheese being old.'

 'Or that you're mutilating him bit by bit?'

 'Ah yes, that too.'

 'You are disgusting.'

 'Why, a compliment from you, dear bar singer?'

    Siren rolled her eyes.

 'Your short term insults are just getting worse, demon. Running out of ideas?' she growled. 

 'Yours are hardly anything to write essays about either.'

    Their silent exchange of sentences was interrupted as Kerr reached the old town square, where Gestahl already stood with his arms crossed, listening to a slurring, half-comatose soldier that just had been pulled out of the rubble.

 "Monster… demon… with horns… fire… fire…" the man croaked, head rolling back and forth against the bottom of his stretcher. 

    Most of his body was hidden under a blanket, but he had a black eye and the left side of his face was nastily burnt, the skin cracked up in sickly red and yellow gooey bits. The helmet was gone to reveal that quite a bit of dark hair had been scorched off as well. Not a pretty sight at all. 

 "They have Ifrit, I take it," Gestahl muttered, waving at the hooded warrior that stood waiting on the other side of the stretcher. 

    The officer immediately began muttering a healing spell and soon the wounded soldier slept soundly, his face steadily healing. 

    Turning around, the emperor set his eyes on Kerr so quickly that it almost seemed as if the older man had known that the madman approached.

 "Emperor," the lunatic smoothly said, performing his trademark wrap-cloak-around-self-and-bow.

    Inside the soulscape, Siren grunted and pressed her hands against her ears as the wind began howling profanities about the overcooked tyrant again. 

 "I want a word with you, Kefka," Gestahl said, darkly.

 "My, my, what did I do this time?"

    The emperor didn't reply, instead turning his head to look at the next incoming higher-up.

 "Keep an eye on things for a few minutes, Aglie," he ordered. 

 "Yes, emperor," the general said, saluting his superior.

    Gestahl gave no reply to that either, walking down towards what had used to be a simple wharf. Now it was just blocks of burnt rocks littered with ashes and scorched planks. Despite not liking the description of his act, Kerr obediently followed the emperor out of hearing range for the workers. 

 "Did you ask _him_ about any magicite that the Returners still has?" the older man demanded as the lunatic came up beside him. 

    No questions needed about who that was supposed to be. Not with that tone. 

 'Is there inside information available?' Kerr thought, irritated. 

 'Wouldn't you come off as horribly suspicious if you hadn't told him something like that earlier?' Siren gravely pointed out. 

 'I hate it when you have a somewhat good point.'

 'You're welcome.'

    The conversation took only half a second, and Kerr slapped his forehead much in the same way that he had done earlier during the smooth argument with Aglie.

 "I knew I forgot _something_!" he grunted, "give me five minutes after we get back and I'll have him cough it up."

    Gestahl didn't answer at first, glaring at the ocean for a moment. Then he turned his face at Kerr.

 "I will be watching that, Kefka."

    While Siren made a half-strangled sound, Kerr just smoothly glanced back at the enormous shadow that was Vector, resting about a few hundred yards to the north of Maranda's walls. And smirked. 

 "Then I will do my best to make it entertaining for you, emperor," he promised.

 'You _like_ that idea!' Siren lashed out, nails clawing the air inches from the strings of her harp.

 'What did you expect?' Kerr's mental voice snorted.

 'What are you going to do?!'

 'Beat Kefka half to coma in front of Gestahl of course. What did you expect?'


	31. It begins right here

Chapter 31, Prelude to chaos

"What were you doing in Maranda of all places, gramps?" Locke asked, trying to adjust his position on the simple bed as something for Cid to lean on while sitting up, "you seemed to be good at surviving those psychos before."

 "The important word there would be 'before'," the older man sighed, sipping from the mug of soup that Celes carefully helped him hold.

    He was in a terrible state. None of the prisoners were in best health, but what could be seen of the middle-aged scientist beneath ragged clothes, dirt and wild hair, appeared to be little more than skin and bones. How he had made it to the Falcon had according to himself, not surprisingly, involved almost being carried by a cellmate. 

 "It seems that when Gestahl figured that I wasn't needed anymore, he didn't feel like listening to my complaints," he said, a wry, bitter smile almost visible under the thick beard.

    He looked up at Celes and smiled a bit wider.

 "Though right now, I feel like I was luckier than many others. I'm alive at least."

 "And we'll have you back to your old self soon enough," Celes promised, returning the smile and placing her free hand on Cid's shoulder, "Figaro castle is safe from the empire."

    The old scientist smiled a bit longer, then turned his attention back to the mug. A slight frown appeared on his forehead. 

 "Figaro castle…" he muttered, slowly.

 "What about it?" Celes wondered. 

 "What of king Edgar?" Cid asked, straightening up and looking around at the two Returners with concern, "not too long ago the guards claimed that he had been captured by the empire…"

 "Oh sure, that was true. For about five minutes," Locke merrily snickered, "now he's pulling all our strings from the bottom of the sandbox."

    Cid's concerned look cracked into a relieved smile, but before he could reply another voice cut into the talk from above. 

 "You better not let him hear that, Locke, he might pout or something!"

    The small group and several other prisoners around turned their sights towards the upper floor of the Falcon, just in time to see a greenish ponytail sweep around above the railing and disappear with a somewhat hoarse chuckle. Celes and the thief before her did hear the slight strain of Terra's voice though, the one that did not have anything to do with her being tired. Locke held back a sigh by pursing his lips. And here he had almost managed to forget about that headache…

 "Cid…"

    Celes' voice was low, and she threw her gaze around the area before leaning in closer to the mechanic. Though most prisoners in the immediate area seemed too tired to be curious about what the three people were going on about, she didn't feel like taking chances on this subject. 

 "Hmm?" the old scientist murmured, raising his filthy eyebrows in surprise at the sudden change of tension.

    Locke leant his head a little closer, though he already had a good idea of what was about to be asked. He was more interested in the continuation of the talk.  

 "This might seem a little sudden," Celes picked up again, "but you were in the esper project from the beginning, right?"

 "Not really from the very beginning but I was connected to it… why?" Cid asked, none the wiser than before. 

    The magitek knight hesitated for a moment, deliberating how to express her query.

 "Back then, did you know Kefka and his brother?"

    Cid blinked, then stared sharply at the blond woman.

 "How do you know about Kerr?" he almost hissed, taking both Celes and Locke by surprise with his tone.

 "He's causing us sour stomachs and lack of sleep, that's how," the treasure hunter said, quickly getting over the change.

    The scientist gave Locke a look of pure disbelief, of a softer kind than the last stare. 

 "Kerr?" the older man said, "he's been dead for twenty years."

 "Dead?"

    The word left two mouths a little louder than planned, and it turned a few heads. But as the conversation settled back into a murmur, the startled men returned to resting. 

 "He was killed by one of the espers, right when they were brought to Vector in the first place," Cid continued with a frown, "that was when Kefka began to change. He wasn't any crazier than anyone of us before that…"

    The older man paused for a moment, thinking back on things before he continued:

 "Or at least he didn't show it. Kerr was far more eccentric."

    Locke and Celes exchanged glances. 

 "What?" the scientist asked, confused. 

 "That old goat of an emperor likes it contrived, I must say," Locke concluded with a shake of his head. 

    The thie- 

    Ahem.

    The treasure hunter spoke true indeed…

-

The last thing Gogo remembered was Kerr's voice. Or the last thing after the world spun and turned green, then black. _Then_ the next thing he knew, it was green again, and Kerr was yelling behind him.

 "Wake up, it's pop-quiz time!"

    After that, things got a bit fuzzy. Really fuzzy.

    Rather blank, actually. 

    But he had this creeping feeling that he liked it that way. The world was slowly creeping back at him, and the first thing he noticed was that he felt like one big, formless pile of dully throbbing pain. Something surrounded his body, but his nerves were too occupied with burning to bring his brain any more specific information about the current position. Maybe he was lying down. On his back, perhaps? Yeah, that sounded plausible… always something.

    As he tried to speak, he found that the only result was a helpless groan.

 "Hey! You're not supposed to wake up yet! Who said you could wake up yet?"

    Gogo's hazy brain made a slow analyze, performing at the lowest possible speed to save energy. Tone of voice, the voice itself, the smirk, the lack of empathy… yep, it was Kerr.

    The next thing to analyze was not originally meant to be "who did say I could wake up?" but it demanded attention. However he did not get a chance to reach that answer at the same slow speed, as a wave of warm streams flowed into him, spreading across his body – which became more definable as the healing magic streamed through it. 

 'You enjoyed it. I know you did, you sick, twisted beast!'

    Siren's voice sent ripples crashing through his almost comatose mind, and it didn't help that the cascade of curative power immediately dried up. Gogo groaned in protest, but it was drowned by Kerr's loud reply.

 "I admit not being too opposed to smacking him around, but that's stretching it."

 'Oh-ho?' Siren said, scornfully, 'so you want to seem nice all of a sudden?'  

 "Psh, now _that_ was an insult. All I'm saying is that I don't like Gestahl ogling over my shoulder and drooling at my work."

 'You were the drooling one. He was more watching you than Gogo.'

    The mimic pried his left eye open, finding himself looking up at Kerr. The madman was standing over the younger brother, glaring off in empty space while he listened and replied to Siren's accusations. Gogo's vision was almost completely filled by his twin's palms, which still were spread above the still body even though the magic had ceased to flow from them. 

 "I thought you were complaining about my lack of sympathy and not acting skills," Kerr snarled.

 'Now you're just squirming,' Siren said, a not completely hidden smugness apparent in her voice, 'and I might add, that's the least thing you can do for Gogo. You…'

 "Hey…!" the subject of the discussion croaked. 

    This time his weak interruption of the argument was handled with a little more care than last time he had tried to intervene; when they had been shouting about poison rivers and unnecessary announcements. Siren held off her rant and Kerr looked down, crossing his arms.

 "Any nice dreams?" the madman questioned, the usual smirk tugging at the red lips. 

    Gogo squinted as his focus swam for a moment and his brother seemed to spin over himself. If he hadn't been so dizzy, that would have been a rather amusing sight.

 "What… in the… world?" the mimic finally managed to croak after Kerr stopped swooping around while standing still.

 "… Happened?"

    Kerr waved his right hand above his left elbow while the eyes rolled around in their red-brimmed sockets. 

 "Not that much," he said in a dry voice, "Gestahl just felt like seeing an evening performance. I don't think I broke any of your bones. Did I?"

    He received no reply. The person in the bed was completely silent. 

 'Provided you were thoughtful enough to even consider that during your "fun",' Siren snarled as the silence lasted another moment.

    Kerr growled at the ceiling. 

 "Will you shut up, whore?"

 'What's this, a little soar? You? Feeling the weight of conscience?'

    The madman's eyes became thinner and thinner for every single word. 

 'I can hear your thoughts in here, you know,' Siren kept pushing, hoarsely, 'you've got enough conflicting desires to have them start a world war on their own, and they're not pretty.'

    With his face steadily constricting during the speech, the sudden smirk was somehow a relief to see. Kind of.

 "Not pretty? You make it sound as if you expected that."

 'I'm not expecting _anything_ of you, ever.'

    The sound of a quick hand clapping rung through the air.

 "Time out!" Kerr irritably announced, "_when_ exactly did you change from 'scared senseless' into 'stuck-up witch'?"

    Siren snorted.

 'Just when I saw what a pathetic mortal you are, human,' she replied.

 "Shall we have a look into that, perhaps?" Kerr growled, and his eyes turned unfocused. 

    Inside the mindscape, Siren raised her harp and cautiously backed away as the ghastly mind avatar of her enemy rose from the black ground before her.

    She would not show weakness, she would not let him win. He had gone too far with Gogo, and she would fight for her friend this time. The madman would pay for what he had done to the humans and espers, even if it killed her in the process!

    Her fingers flew towards the harp's strings as the avatar raised his hands, gray fire running from his hands to mark the trail of his fingers in the air. The sky above them cracked and boiled, winds howling while clawing the clouds into shreds to mirror Kerr's rising fury. Siren's hair and clothes flapped madly in the violent air currents, but she stood steady on the ground with her willpower set on one single blow that possibly could shatter the corrupted mind. She would only have one chance, and it would have been far, far better if he hadn't been prepared for it. However, she was not so rotten that she could think of stabbing somebody in the back; not even him. And up till now, she had respected Gogo's love for his brother. But after this abuse of power, she could no longer tolerate Kerr's antics. He had gladly ripped Gogo to shreds as an act, perhaps more carefully than he normally would go about it but that was no excuse. Only the knowledge that rendering Kerr comatose to stop him definitely could drive Gestahl to killing Gogo had stopped her from acting during the torture. But the emperor was no longer there; if she could turn Kerr into a vegetable then Gogo would be able to sneak out somehow, they could switch places… yes, he would understand, even after that. 

    His memory would be fuzzy; she had done the only thing she could to help the mimic and locked up his fresh, painful memories for the time being. It was mediocre, but he had been spared waking to the horror at least.

    But now… no more!

    She bravely faced the mighty ghost before her, fear gone in the whirlwind of rage in her own mind. This would be the end of their false connection, the termination of a perverse co-existence that had sickened her for far too long. She and Gogo would both be free of Kerr's uncontrollable cruelty.

    His burning eyes glared back at her, free of all sympathy. Yes, he aimed to erase her very existence, to devour her soul and mind with his raw magical power. Unsophisticated, but one of the deadliest things in existence. Unless she was faster, there would be no rescue.

    All this realized during the half heartbeat, hardly even that. Only the time it took for his hands to reach the end of their arc, her fingers to reach the golden strings.

    The sky exploded with thunder.

    And the ghost fell over.

 "Augh!?"

    Siren blinked, dumbfounded. Her hand fell from the harp in surprise, and the world around her even flicked for a moment before returning to the normal, dull peace. Gone was the storm with its rumble and winds, and gone was the mind avatar.

    There was a loud comment from Kerr's thoughts, however.

 'The hell, Kef?!'

    More instinctively than anything else, Siren leapt out of the mind to float, unseen, above the two brothers. 

    Kerr was probably still blinking, which she had to guess as all she saw was the back of his head and the ponytail. His situation demanded a bit of surprise, that was all.

    He was still standing, but sharply bent over the bed. This was because Gogo's hand was clenching around the collar of his robe, and the mimic had apparently pulled rather hard to get his brother face to face.

    From her position, Siren couldn't see her friend's expression any more than she could see Kerr's. But as Gogo spoke, it was rather apparent in his voice. 

 "Kerr, finish the healing before I kill _both _of you."

    There was another moment of silence, a memorable time during which Kerr actually was stunned mute. It was a time to savor well, for it would surely not be reborn anytime soon.

    Eventually, the older one recovered and reached up, grabbing the wrist of his brother's hand.

 "Well, well, sounds like somebody's starting to develop an attitude," Kerr said. 

    He met no resistance when moving the hand back down on the blanket and straightened himself up, smirking again.

    Gogo looked less amused, but just as well too haggard to growl anymore. He simply turned his head and stared up at the ceiling while Kerr theatrically rubbed his palms together before holding them up again. A low sigh was all that escaped the mimic when the healing magic began to work its way through his beaten body.

    All this was seen by the silent Siren, who floated back and forth above Kerr's bed – though it was currently occupied by Gogo. Words burned her tongue wanting to be unleashed upon the madman, and the chaotic mix of crazed bravery and fear only a minute ago still held her in its grip. Her hands were shaking slightly even as she gripped the harp as hard as she could to control the shivers. But she could not bring herself to attack Kerr again; the desire to do so laid paralyzed in the wake of Gogo's snarling. 

    It seemed like Kerr finished the healing as quick as he could, even he touched by the uncomfortable feeling that still lingered.

 "That should do it," he concluded as the green curtain of light dissipated. 

    He shook his hands as if trying to rid them of water, all the while looking down at his unmoving brother.

    In whose court the ball was now seemed apparent. One had to give Kerr that much credit, for once.

    Eventually, after what seemed to be ages, Gogo's eyes rolled towards the man standing over him. The younger held the older's gaze for a second, then the eyes made another twirl around, though it seemed aimless Siren realized that the mimic was searching her invisible eyes. 

 'Yes?' she hesitantly said. 

    Gogo looked back at the ceiling, sternly though tired.

 "I get the feeling," he murmured, "that you two are constantly bickering because of me, but you _still_ let me take the punches."

 'No really, Gogo, I…' Siren quickly begun. 

    Not quick enough.

 "I'm your big brother, I've got the right to be bossy," Kerr cut her off.

    Awfully cheerful. Siren gritted her teeth, but forced herself to stay put to honor Gogo's verbal lash.  

    The mimic looked back on Kerr, eyes thinning slightly.

 "I'll get back on you someday, brother."

    And he got a smirk back, of course. 

 "Whatever you say, little one…"

    Kerr should have taken heed of the fact that this time, his brother meant it. Things were moving in the mimic's head. 

    Strange, complicated and definitely unpleasant things. 

    But they still needed to mature before Gogo could voice them.


	32. Halfbreed and king

Chapter 32, Edgar's second fall

Joy should fill Figaro castle. The resistance had risked a great deal of its most powerful warriors and their greatest asset, the Falcon, in a plan that lightly said had been desperate. Now, the long wait that had kept king Edgar and his people awake for many hours was finally over.

Joy did fill Figaro castle. Returning safely, Locke's group brought news of a successful blow against the seemingly omnipotent enemy. Not only news, but also a large group of people whom were prepared to fill up the small ranks of the Returners, more survivors than most had considered to hope for.

The sun had lately been given the pleasure of watching a lot of joy surrounding the mechanical castle of the great desert, which of course was a nice change of pace.

Now, freed prisoners were carried and supported across the short distance between the Falcon and the castle, hurrying to get out of sight of the happy, but none too gentle giant ball of fire in the sky.

Joy filled Figaro castle and its inhabitants. Victorious warriors and new friends were taken cared of almost before they knew what happened. The grim state of the world and their own situation had changed the people of Figaro into a moving mass of humanity and care, now opening up for those in greater need of help. It would only be a question of time before the wrecks dragged from Maranda would be prepared to fight for the same cause.

So supportive were the army of good Samaritans, so joyful they were in their cause that none of them had time to notice that something was amiss. No, it is wrong to blame even one of them, for they all knew that the load of people the Falcon had brought were in dire need of help, and that was what the needing would receive. Let it be known that the missing piece of the puzzle hardly became forgotten – however, those who did send him a thought quickly let it slide, thinking that he surely was somewhere in the crowd, handing out food and offering healing magic or bandages like everyone else.

But the soldier who dove into the crowd filling the castle all the way into the throne room knew better, far better than he wanted to. People gave him odd looks as he wormed and pushed his way through the ocean of humans, croaking out pleas for a healer.

"They are all by the entrance!" a man carrying a basket of bread called, "is somebody dy-"

But the soldier only caught the first part, his insecure walk instantly turning into a desperate tearing through the hindrances.

"A healer! A healer, for the love of Heaven!"

People quickly noticed that somebody literally bulldozed his way through their numbers and those who were in his way tried to make room. The crowded state of everything hardly allowed for that, however.

The soldier fought with all his might to keep the panic bottled, but it was like a nightmare. Hundreds of worried faces surrounded him, and none of them seemed able to offer him any help in his search. A few raised their voices to bring his words further ahead quickly, but the need for healers was hardly something uncommon in the situation the Returners were in. The calls disappeared among the others.

Pushing and squirming forwards, the man bit down hard on his lower lip to keep from giving out the information that probably would give him a healer, but also cause a catastrophe. His orders were firm; one false move and there would be a mass hysteria.

A wave of green suddenly passed, caught just in the corner of his eye.

"Miss Branford! Miss Branford, please…!"

Terra groaned in protest as a rough hand closed around her arm and ripped her aside, people crunching against each other as they tried to make room for the crazed soldier and his quarry. The half-esper sluggishly waved her free hand at the offending grip, but she was too exhausted to think clearly. Maduin offered no protest either, slumbering in his magicite after the trying night.

Despite the unkind treatment, Terra's brain worked too slowly by now and was too locked in the feeling of being in a safe environment full of friends, to process the idea of a danger.

That was, until she found herself alone in an empty room with the soldier, her back against the wall and his hot breath scorching her face.

Ripped from her fatigued trance, Terra croaked out the hoarse spoil of an alarmed scream, trying to free herself from the man. Startled, he pressed a finger against her lips.

"No! No, please, Miss Branford, I…" he whispered.

His own brain kicked into gear and he realized what he was doing. Recoiling as if burned, he held up a pair of shaking hands.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean-"

Drawing in a sharp breath, he cut himself off again. Terra could only stare at him, her head spinning with the clash of exhaust and shock. The guard licked his dry lips and tried again.

"Miss Branford, please come… it's His Majesty, he…"

The words hit Terra like an ice cold shower.

Afterwards, she never could remember how she made it over to the royal chambers, only that she stumbled inside Edgar's study to find it in chaos. The chair had fallen over and papers littered the floor, spilled ink crawling over them like black blood. The dark liquid seeped down the walls, half dry, half liquid. It seemed that the bottle containing the ink had been thrown across the room.

"_Edgar_!"

Terra nearly fell through the satin curtain separating the study from the bedroom, and crashed into the chancellor.

"Thank goodness…" he whispered before pushing her forwards, towards the bed dominating the room.

The closest of three guards assembled around the king's resting place reached out and offered Terra support as she staggered closer. Still, she almost fell over Edgar's unmoving form but regained control in the last moment and straightened up.

She recalled that his face had been less than rosy when she saw him before leaving for Maranda, but now his cheeks had turned ashen in color and the rings around his eyes seemed dark enough to glare at her on their own.

"What happened, was he attacked?" Terra croaked.

Not even waiting for an answer, she frantically scanned her friend for signs of harm. No blood visible… his robes were rather wrinkled, but spotless. Terra reached for Edgar's throat to check his pulse just when the chancellor answered.

"It seems that His Majesty is only asleep, Miss."

The half-esper jumped in surprise and spun around to stare at the fidgeting man. Her first impulse was to run out to find the guard who had frightened her and bestow pain upon his nose for the false shock.

But the chancellor cleared his throat.

"However, things are apparently not well," he grimly said, "he only reacted briefly when we tried to awaken him."

Before he even reached the end of the explanation, Terra kneeled by their king's bedside and whispered words of healing. Her vision swam, but she pressed her will into creating the soft power needed. Rather she would drive herself unconscious than let Edgar slip away…

'Wake up, we need you! _Wake up_!'

"Mmfgh…"

Edgar softly groaned and slowly fought a pair of blood-shot eyes open as the magical light washed over him.

"Your Majesty!"

Sighing in relief Terra let her head fall down on the mattress, completely drained as the tension bounced into oblivion. The relieved calls from the chancellor and guards melted into a goo of mushy sounds together with the whispering of Edgar's hoarse voice, and Terra couldn't hear a single word. She didn't try either, too exhausted to focus enough.

After a short while, she vaguely heard the sound of several pairs of feet moving away as silently as would be possible with boots. But by then she was half-way into the land of dreams and hardly even noticed.

Silence… Terra tumbled over the edge of consciousness and into the warm, welcoming embrace of sleep.

That was when somebody weakly pinched her ear, digging both nails into her earlobe for added effect.

"Ow…!"

She groggily grunted in protest and more rolled away than anything else, already about to forget she ever felt anything and preparing to head back towards sleep… yes, sleep… rest…

"… terra…"

"Mmm?"

"… you're in my room… you know…"

"Whaa…?"

Reluctantly she lifted her head to investigate the source of the irritating croak, and squinted her eyes at Edgar. He watched her with one halfway closed eye, not even a sparkle of amusement hiding anywhere in his haggard facial expressions.

Edgar. Edgar's room. Edgar's bed.

Oops.

Terra's brain managed to somewhat return to life at this reminder, and she heaved herself upwards on her arms – them still resting on the mattress, though.

"Sorry," she murmured and made a feeble attempt to get up properly.

Edgar let out a sigh; it might have been a groan had he felt a little more inspired, and slowly lifted his hand towards her. It fell down before coming close, however.

"Terra… please…"

She slowly blinked, frowning. The sole open eye of the king disappeared from sight as the lid of it inevitably sunk, but his lips still moved. Terra carefully leant in closer, though half comatose still having her instincts telling her not to trust Edgar with too much intimacy.

But the whispers she caught, more breaths than words, were hardly flirtatious.

"Please… get me out of here…"

"What?" Terra said, startled further towards an awakened state.

But Edgar had fallen asleep, leaving the half-esper to worriedly trying to understand what he meant.

'-'

There was a problem. Well, two problems. Or, if one wanted to get into the great unnecessary detail, a troubling problem that had spawned another, smaller but far more irritating problem. Or twins of a problem. Or again, since there were enough twins around already, a more favorable wording would be something along the lines of _two sides of the same_-

Siren had to slap herself to snap out of it.

The whole tirade about the problems was a little something she had composed while trying to avoid thinking about the problems.

She floated around the room aimlessly, unsure of what to do. The silence should have been peaceful, but there was a small tension that made her teeth remember how it felt to ache. It appeared that nobody else acknowledged it, however. At least not for the moment, since Gogo slept.

The mimic laid on his side in Kerr's bed, face turned against the wall. Still he refused to remove his helmet, even if his brother had muttered warnings about torn pillows. Now he seemed relaxed, but Siren had watched him all day.

He was glaring at things.

Constantly.

It amazed the esper that Kerr hadn't noted the fact that Gogo's gaze, instead of being used for reading, tried to set fire to the book in the gloved hands.

On the other hand, it really was preposterous thinking that Kerr would notice anything beyond his own nose unless it was pointed out. Or killable.

But back to the problem. Obviously Gogo was angry, and rightfully so in Siren's opinion. What worried her was the fact that he wouldn't talk about it. He didn't confront Kerr, and had hardly uttered a word all day, neither aloud nor in thought.

Siren had been waiting, keeping her silence with the belief that he wanted to be left alone.

Of course, Kerr was blabbering about as usual without a worry in the world, unheeding the fact that he hardly got a grunt in reply. Now that he didn't have a brother around that would listen to him, he was sitting in the sofa, sipping wine and reading one of his own notebooks. Ah, the embodiment of perceptiveness.

So there the whole trouble lay. Gogo was silently moving towards a boiling point and did nothing about it, which worried Siren. That was the first problem. The second was that the only one she possibly could discuss this with was Kerr.

Little to no elaboration needed on that one.

It seemed that the mimic planned something, but he would not let the esper in on it. Whatever it was, it probably caused him problematic thoughts. From what she knew of Gogo, he never hesitated when his feelings told him to act; very much like his brother. The current behavior seemed unlike him, and it unsettled Siren. Whatever he thought about he might in fact not like at all.

'-'

Terra planned to wake up early the next morning, but considering the circumstances she could only be grateful that she opened her eyes before lunchtime.

Relm and Celes kept snoozing, comfortably curled up in their beds as the half-esper slipped into her clothes and tip-toed out of the room. She felt dizzy and lightheaded, but despite knowing that she needed to find breakfast she instead headed in the opposite direction of the dining hall.

The castle was silent, and she only met an occasional soldier or worker, whom "scurried" about in the pace of stranded turtles.

However, and this was with a feeling of relief, she found that the place guarded by the most alert-looking guards was the room she had in mind to enter. The two men even requested that she would state her business and leave any weapons by the door. Not even when one of them followed her inside did Terra find it irritating; instead a feeling of relief filled her. All this only meant that the person inside received the care and protection that he needed.

Edgar was still in bed, now changed from his normal clothes into a simple white shirt. The rest of him stayed hidden beneath the blanket, and at least now he was sitting up with his back resting against the high head-frame of the bed. Or rather against the heap of pillows leaning against the frame. As Terra and the guard entered, he just raised a piece of bread from the plate resting in his lap. The food returned to its origin however when the still blood-shot eyes of the king turned towards the visitors.

"Good morning, Edgar," Terra said, keeping her voice low just in case.

He tried to smile, and looked at the guard.

"You may leave," Edgar said.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The silk curtain fell back in place behind the man, steps moved away and a few seconds later the door of the study closed.

Edgar turned to Terra, and though she had been planning questions while she headed towards his room, they all turned into smoke under his tired gaze. Suddenly she felt like she was intruding when what he really needed was more rest, and she started considering an apology and leaving when he silently nodded once towards a chair in a corner.

Quickly Terra hurried over to it and with ease lifted the piece of furniture a few inches above the floor. While she carried it towards the bed, Edgar moved the plate in his lap over onto the bed table, where it met up with its companion the Rapidly Cooling Cup of Tea.

"Are you feeling better?" Terra blurted while she sat down on the chair almost before she had put it down beside the bed.

The question came out stupidly since he obviously was not, but it was all she could think of right then.

Edgar looked down at the blanket and slowly shook his head.

"I need to get out of here, Terra…" he muttered at the bed.

She frowned.

"What?"

"I can't just sit here and be helpless while the rest of you fight, it's driving me crazy!"

One could hardly claim that there was force behind his words, since his voice never rose above a murmur. But there was a resolution.

Terra could not answer at first. Somewhere in the back of her mind she had been expecting something like that since his prayer last night, but still no good reply came up as quick as she wished.

"You're safe here…" she started.

This was solely based on his importance and the fact that he looked like something that a baby areneid could kill off – despite the fact that her emotions screamed at her that such a statement would not be received well. In fact, it felt utterly wrong just to think of it. She was proven right.

Edgar's fist thumped against the mattress and his head dropped even lower.

"God damn it, Terra!"

All her weak wishes to protest wavered at the sound of his bitter voice.

"I just sit here, all day long, terrified that the Falcon will return with news that one of you have died, or that it won't return at all!" he snarled, still without looking up, "Terra, _I have to get out of here_!"

Even though she staggered in her resolution to keep him safe, there were still problems that demanded to be pointed out in the face of this.

But she could impossibly look him in the eye when she said it.

"If you get captured again, or killed, then what will we do?" she asked her clenched fists.

"I already feel like I'm captured and dying in here," Edgar growled.

She looked up in confusion at his hard words about Figaro. Even without the memory of his grand return from the empire, for a king who loved his kingdom so much it seemed incomprehensible. A king who loved his kingdom so much that he would… die for… it…

"Is our resistance so weak that we would fall with me? I thought that I could trust you and everyone else with more than that."

His cold eyes were downright frightening.

"No… yes, of course, but we're afraid…" Terra said, clenching and unclenching her hands.

"And you think I'm not? I already told you…"

Edgar sighed and pressed a hand against his face while shaking his head.

"I'm being turned into a saint, you feel that yourself, don't you?" he said without looking at her, "even you don't trust in my ability to fight anymore. I'm not allowed to do anything."

These accusations were almost more than she could bear. How could he think so badly of her and the others?

"I know you can fight, Edgar…" Terra said, frowning.

"Then why won't you let me?"

He still did not look at her, but his teeth were bared.

"Who's the one giving orders around here?" the half-esper pointed out, hoping that this was the argument that would bring him down.

She should have known better.

"Yes, who indeed?" Edgar grunted, "as I remember it, I'm always voted down when I ask to come along and help on any assignment outside of the castle. What good am I doing here, Terra? Staring at papers and waiting for the Falcon to return? You're not listening to me!"

Frustrated, Terra reached out and grabbed a hold of the king's shaking fist.

"But you're important to us, Edgar!" she said, "to the resistance and the people all over the world. You need to-"

"Be hung on the cross like the savior!" he cut her off.

Ripping his hand free, he raised both arms upwards and faced the ceiling, snarling to some unseen spectator high above:

"Thank you, Gestahl, Kefka, for being the only ones understanding the meaning of my existence!"

At this display of helpless despair, Terra could only gape. For a couple of seconds. As soon as the amazement settled enough for her to move, she shot to her feet and grabbed both of Edgar's wrists to force his arms back down. He did not fight back, but stared up at her with such a pleading gaze that her heart nearly jumped into her throat.

"You need to rest…" she croaked out.

He fell back against the pillows, and she released the wrists. Without anything holding them up anymore, his arms crashed onto the mattress.

"I need to get out of here…" he whispered, as if the repetition was the only way he could make her understand, "Terra, please… it's driving me crazy."

With shaking hands the half-esper reached down and awkwardly pulled the blanket upwards as if to tuck him in, that being the only thing her spinning mind could come up with to use for showing him that she did care.

Edgar said nothing more, but when Terra straightened up and dared to look him in the eye – despite knowing that it probably was a bad idea – the same pleading stare bore into her. She wanted to turn away but could not, held stuck by Edgar's drained gaze.

Finally she realized that the price she would pay for refusing to help him would be to forever stare back at those bitter, tired eyes whenever she looked at him, and as she stood there Terra knew that it would be unbearable. Edgar was truly suffering.

"I… I'll talk with the others," she said in a low voice.

Closing his eyes, Edgar leant his head backwards with a deep sigh of relief.

"Thank you…"

Somehow managing a pathetic smile, Terra backed out.

She turned around when it was time to open the door of the study and step out into the bigger hall. About the time she reached the next door, she moved quicker than a normal walking pace, and when she entered the main castle, she ran.


	33. The ball is rolling

Author's note: _Thanks for the reviews, and for bearing with me in taking so long. Please don't kill me, though, it'll be hard to write more if you do. :) _

_Also, constructive criticism is very, very good. I've changed some edgy stuff in the earlier bits of the story from the helpful review I got from Alex. Sorry, should have said this much, much earlier: Thank you! _

_If you see something that you think should be polished or changed, please do tell me. That's what reviews are for after all; nobody can improve without comments from the readers. Praise makes me warm and fuzz, of course, but really, constructive comments are highly valued! _

_Okay, less talkie, more chapie._

Chapter 33, Persuasion

Gogo stared at the wall in the distant light of Kerr's reading lamp. Siren might have thought that he slept, but in reality that was the last thing on his mind.

'No, no. Of course not. Simply insane.'

Turning over he stared at the ceiling instead, his eyes growing thin as a frown took over his forehead. This was the second night he spent like this, twisting and turning the idea that despite his best efforts had formed inside his brain, giving himself only small pauses for sleep until the thought pulled him back into an awakened state with its alluring potential.

'Insane, huh?'

No matter how he tried to reason against it, the possibilities kept lashing back at him like waves upon a beach.

'Past insanity, even.'

The repercussions would certainly not be light, and the risks by far outweighed any so called "possibilities"… which, by decree of all common sense, could never be anything but his own brain ghosts.

'Way past Kerr-insanity.'

Still, if it could be pulled off, if Siren perhaps could help making it work without anyone getting seriously hurt…

'…'

As the sleepless hours floated by, he had watched the thought evolve into a full idea that patiently dug its way into his consciousness until it was too secure to remove. And now, it _really_ wouldn't leave him alone.

'No, no…'

It was far too risky, could only end in disaster. There was no way it could be pulled off. Not with all the people that stood in the way.

'No. Kerr wouldn't be caught dead on that height of idiocy.'

He paused.

'Well, that sounded logical. He'd probably be delighted.'

But just as quickly, logic reared its old, parental head.

'Hardly. Better be reasonable. He's a bit insane, not stupid.'

The idea, of course, would never take this offense lying down however, and launched another attack.

'If we can do this, it will solve several of the biggest problems we're currently facing.'

And cause a barrelful more.

'But how could any of us be safe without risking something?'

Logic hesitated at that. Gogo fully well knew that it would take something exceptional to bring him out of the current situation. That was something that Kerr should know as well.

Noting the opening, the idea aimed for the weakest point of all.

'Just seeing his face at the suggestion will make it worthwhile.'

The mimic raised a hand and rubbed his forehead with two fingers, considering that last thought.

'Well, there're only two things he does in cases like this… either he laughs or threatens to kill me. Wouldn't be anything new.'

And the more Gogo thought about the revelation, the more appealing it seemed. Still, it was almost another half hour of slow tossing a turning under the idea's weight before he threw off the blanket and heaved himself out of the bed. Straightening up he strode towards his brother, who looked up from his reading.

"Not comfortable enough for you?" Kerr said and threw the book on the table.

He turned away slightly as he reached for his glass of wine.

"Kerr," Gogo said, folding his arms, "I have an idea."

"Hmm?" the older brother said in an indifferent tone, lifting the glass to his lips while regarding the mimic only from the corner of his eye.

"I thought that maybe…"

Two seconds later there was wine splattered across half the table and a good part of the carpet beyond it, not to mention the huge stain spreading over the floor from the shattered glass by Kerr's feet. The madman was coughing wildly, clutching his throat with both hands as he fought to clear his lungs of the red liquid.

While he repeatedly slammed his palm into his brother's back, Gogo realized that he should have predicted this and waited until Kerr had swallowed properly before speaking.

To add up, in his mind he could hear Siren spluttering as well.

"Ke-Kef-k-ka!" Kerr rasped between the coughs and somewhat gentle hits, "if you… wa-ant-ed to ki-kill me… why do-don't you… just st-stab me in my sleep!"

'Have you gone mad as well!' Siren screeched from some point above the two of them.

"Fo-for once, I sa-ay listen t-to the stri-striptease dancer!"

Kerr fell backwards in the sofa and thumped against the backrest, sighing heavily to regain his breath. Gogo stood firm under the piercing glare that turned at him after a few more seconds.

"_I'm_ supposed to be the crazy one, midget," Kerr snarled, pointing at his brother to put extra emphasis on the accusation.

"I've been thinking this over for a long time," Gogo said, crossing his arms.

"Oh, really. Then why do you even share it with me and ghost girl?"

Resolutely glaring back at his brother, the mimic sat down on the sofa beside him.

"I know it's insane-"

"My point still stands."

"Shut up and listen to me for once!" Gogo snarled.

Kerr snickered and glanced upwards at the thin air where Siren probably was.

"Listen to him, he's developed an attitude."

"_Kerr_!"

The lord jumped a bit at the unusually sharp tone of his brother's voice, and looked at his brother with a bit of vague interest. Gogo glared. Eventually, Kerr raised his hands with an overblown shrug and sigh.

"What do you know, my little brother is growing up and developing his own sense of madness," he said, "I'm so proud…"

"Proud enough to lend me an ear for a few minutes?" Gogo said, still in a rather frosty voice.

"Oh, what the hell. I'm sure it'll be something to tell the grandchildren to give them nightmares."

Gogo would have continued at once, but both he and Siren were forced to pause and consider the idea of Kerr having children. Or as Siren put it to herself, spawning.

Shudders were suppressed.

"Anyway," Gogo started again after clearing his throat, "I believe that this is the only way to get us out of this situation with both our reputations somewhat clean."

He allowed Kerr a pause after that, knowing that his elder brother would cut him off if he tried to continue. The lord did not waste the offer.

"We'll be caught within two minutes," Kerr said, cheerful as if talking about his last massacre, "after which we'll be mutilated, crushed and murdered. And then they'll kill us."

'You speak from experience,' Siren said.

"Of course!"

"Are you done?" Gogo asked.

"Do go on, this is actually funny," Kerr said with a huge smirk.

He crossed his arms and watched his little brother expectantly. Inwardly, Gogo was starting to grin himself. Siren, on the other hand, began to bite her nails.

"The thing here is that Gestahl is loosing trust in you," the mimic continued.

'Rightfully in several ways,' Siren muttered.

"… And apart from Clyde and the others that brought me out of the zone eater, I doubt the Returners would trust me either," Gogo finished, ignoring the esper's input.

"Is that so? What dirty little secrets have you kept from them and me?" Kerr said, leering.

He was taking the bait it seemed… Gogo experienced a mix of triumph and dread, still questioning what the hell he was doing. But he was on a roll now, and the idea's own will urged him on. The possibility of freedom shimmered just within sight, and therefore he chose to play along with Kerr's peculiar brand of humor in order to keep his brother hooked.

Giving Kerr a blank look, Gogo made a circular motion with a hand around his own face instead of verbally replying. The older brother leant back with a characteristically hoarse chuckle.

"Ah yes, that. Not much of a secret though, Kef."

"Which is my problem."

"True, true… now, you were saying?"

Gogo wet his lips briefly. If Kerr was only mocking him with false interest, it would soon show.

"We need to get out of this with a bang, to convince at least Gestahl that you never dreamt on letting me go," he said, "the Returners are not as dangerous as him; even if some of them might not trust _me_, they will surely trust Siren."

'Even when he announced his presence with such a fanfare the other night?' the esper bitterly questioned.

Gogo glanced in her theoretical direction with compassion, hearing the fear in her voice.

"You can blame any association to Kerr on me," he said, "you have done nothing but trying to survive."

"Yes, especially suicide missions," Kerr chimed in, "the espers will tear you to pieces when they get their hairy hands on you."

"They will not!" Gogo snarled.

"Oh shush you, she was just starting to have a nice nervous breakdown. Don't ruin it for me."

The mimic gritted his teeth and turned back to the deadly silent Siren.

"I'm sure your friends will understand," he firmly said, "in either case it's better that you are brought out of here and have a chance to explain yourself, than stay here in silence."

She still did not reply, but he felt that she was listening closely. Furthermore, while Kerr still seemed more amused than convinced, he was getting there quickly.

'I'm going to hell for this…' Gogo thought.

Despite that conviction, the triumph only grew stronger.

'-'

Relm squinted at the horizontal metal circle sticking out from the wall. It was only slightly wider than her palette and placed far above her head. The much younger children around her watched in a rare moment of breathless silence just before Relm raised her hand and begun to bounce the fist-sized ball into the floor. For each bounce she recited one word from the beginning phrase of the nursery riddle connected with the game.

"Pretty pet petal pearls…"

On the final word she sent the ball upwards in a wide arch. She knew that it would score long before the kids cried out in delight for her victory.

"Wished to vent in willow tree!" they shouted, the choir of their voices only somewhat synchronized.

Relm easily caught the ball before even the quickest child had finished the sentence, though she had to skid to a halt rather desperately to avoid the boxes and sacks lining the walls. No room could be completely dedicated to anything, not even a place for children to play a simple game.

"Doodling dogs and daughters…" Relm chanted.

Bounce, bounce, bounce, throw. And… victory!

"Clutter climbing clam came!"

"Three times to the tree-augh!"

"Oh, sorry!" Terra gasped, diving backwards through the door as the ball bounced straight towards her face.

Relm dove for the ball and caught it before it could flee the room, pouting at the half-esper. The game had brought the girl so close to the room's entrance that when Terra entered, she nearly smacked Relm with the door.

The children were not happy at all and let that be known with loud protests.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry," Terra assured them, trying to calm the young mob before her.

But despite her efforts, the pouts remained vicious. There are battles meant to be fought, and battles meant to flee. And right now, Terra felt no greater desire with trying to make peace with the children. Maybe she could make it up to them later…

"Relm, have you seen Locke or Sabin?" she instead asked.

The young artist idly let the ball jump between her hands as she replied.

"Locke should be wherever Celes is and Sabin… aren't they all still asleep?"

Terra shook her head.

"Celes had left when I got back, and the guys also," she said.

"What is it now, did somebody burst into flames?" Relm said.

She used a silly voice which drew giggles from the group of children, but despite the jocular tone Terra saw the exhaust behind it.

"No, not quite that bad," the half blood said, managing a smile, "but there's something we should discuss. Can I borrow you for a second, at least?"

"Nooo!" the kids cried.

Relm looked at them over her shoulder and threw the ball at them.

"Oh stuff it," she said, "here, play with yourselves until I get back."

Terra nearly gagged. Relm met her older friend's stare and smiled with perfect innocence, while behind her the mob of children fell over each other in the hunt for the ball.

"What?" the young girl said.

"Clyde should clean your mouth with soap!" Terra hissed and grabbed Relm's arm.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Terra dragged the small artist out of the children's playground and closed the door behind them.

"You know that if you teach the kids dangerous phrases you'll get in trouble when they innocently start using them around their parents," the half-esper said as soon as the door was tightly shut.

"What are you talking about, Terra?" Relm asked, looking up at the woman with wide eyes.

Terra debated with herself for a moment, but the main task she had set out for this day was stronger than the wish to debate with Relm about her babysitting skills. She sighed.

"Never mind that now," she said, "I wanted to talk about Edgar."

"Ooh, when's the wedding?"

Terra blinked, glaring down at the grinning girl. She was rapidly regretting her decision to bring the matter up with Relm. The original plan had been to find Sabin and Locke first, them being the Returners whom knew Edgar best and therefore should be the easiest to speak with. However, when Relm had been available the half blood had thought to herself that she might as well get one person over with.

"No wedding," she said.

"Aww. Engagement?"

"No!"

"A little embarrassed, are we?"

Relm smirked so wickedly that even Kerr might have been impressed. With the steel hard will forged in countless battles, Terra swallowed her frustration and shook her head.

"Edgar feels like a prisoner in here," she said, "we need to let him come with us in our missions or he'll go crazy."

"He should get in line, there are enough nutcases around here already," Relm said.

She crossed her arms and rocked back and forth on her heels as she continued speaking.

"But hey, why isn't he just coming along then? He's the master of the castle."

Terra shook her head again, hearing her own argument that Edgar himself had shot down earlier.

"He feels that we're voting him out, which might be true," she said.

"He's too nice sometimes, y'know? If he wanted to go outside he could just waltz out and hang anyone who dares to protest in their toenails."

"That would be Gestahl, not Edgar," Terra said, but Relm's way of speaking drew a smile to the half blood's lips.

"Oh, right…"

Relm chuckled and looked up at her friend.

"What's to discuss, anyway?" the girl asked, "Edgar is old enough to decide for himself, isn't he?"

"That's what I thought too, but it seems he doesn't agree."

Terra smiled.

"Thank you, Relm," she said, "I'll look for the others then. And don't teach the kids too many weird phrases, understand?"

"What do you mean, weird? I'm just puzzling words together like everybody else!"

With that, Relm slipped back into the world of playing kids, and closed the door behind her. Terra rolled her eyes, but headed off into the depths of the castle to find her next prey instead of starting to nag on the girl again.


	34. Every last man who can fight

Chapter 34, Long Live the King

"Not feeling too peachy, is he?"

Sabin cracked his neck with an exasperated sigh and rolled his shoulders, watching the roof all the while. Terra felt very small as the prince stood before her, shirtless as always and dripping with sweat. Not that she had not seen him in this state before; often covered with more blood than sweat in fact. Rather it was since prior to her starting to speak, he had without visible trouble put aside a pair of weights that surely weighed at least as much as she did, if not more.

From the much bigger room they had just left, the sound of shouts and wooden weapons clacking against each other continued without caring whether the prince left or not. There seemed to be a surprising amount of energetic people left in Figaro castle. But on the other hand, morning was long past and many feared dulling skills more than exhaust.

"Stupid moron just have to play a martyr and worry you," Sabin said and finally looked at her.

He reached for the rack of towels on the wall and wiped the worst sweat off his forehead as he went on:

"I know what you mean though, I'm guilty of trying to keep him here too. I just don't want him to bite off more than he can chew again. Though he'd beat me up if he knew that I kinda regarded him as a princess."

Whatever Terra had planned to say once Sabin finished, she completely lost it at the end of his speech. She pressed both hands against her mouth and shut her eyes tightly as laughter ripped through her. Sabin grinned at the reaction.

It took the half esper several seconds to recover enough to speak.

"Now there's a quote for the history books," she said, blinking at the tears of mirth prickling her eyes.

"Oh no, his fangirls will have my blood for all eternity!" Sabin protested, shaking his head in mock horror.

"Fangirls?" Terra repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, he can't fail with _all_ of that flirting, now can he?"

Sabin chuckled and shrugged.

"'Sides, when we've won the war, he'll doubtlessly be glorified beyond belief. Then we can't have some misplaced quotes by me dirtying his white cape."

Terra smiled a little.

"I hope you're right about that," she said.

With a snort, Sabin flung out his right arm to pull her into a bear hug, but remembered his sweaty condition in the last moment. The arm fell to her shoulder instead, and he shook his head again.

"Don't let me hear something like that again, you hear?" he said, "things are looking better, dangit!"

Terra began to speak, when a third voice cut her off.

"And the place of a king is within the ranks of his people, whom he hath sworn to protect."

"Back in the land of the moving, I see?" Sabin greeted Cyan.

The newcomer took his wooden practice sword in both hands and, more due to the power of habit than anything else, stood straightly with is feet slightly apart. In other words, moved into a stoic stance.

"I cannot, and will never, neglect exercising body and mind to remain strong against the enemy," the last warrior of Doma said.

"Good to know."

Only better manners than Locke and Relm's hindered Sabin from instead saying "Good for you", with a far more amused tone. It was however quite close.

Cyan turned to Terra.

"I shall not speak against His Majesty if he wishes to return to the battlefield, my friend," he said, a small smile gracing his lips for the briefest moment.

"Thank you, Cyan," Terra said, not so much smiling as beaming.

Sabin gave a hearty chuckle and crossed his arms.

"See?" he said, looking at the half-esper, "Edgar just doesn't know how much we really care about him. I doubt anybody will protest if we just explain how he feels."

'The problem was rather that he thought that we cared too much,' Terra thought to herself, 'silly, really.'

But she kept her peace about that, and simply nodded agreement.

"Lemme just clean up a little and I'll help you look for everyone else," Sabin said.

"Thanks."

Terra turned around and walked out of the almost empty dressing room. She did not notice Sabin's thoughtful gaze, and how it followed her every step on the way.

"Is anything the matter, Sir Sabin?" Cyan asked.

The words shook the prince out of his reverie, and he shook his head.

"Nothing, really."

"If such is thy belief…"

Cyan tactfully accepted the answer and headed into the training hall, and thus he never saw the concerned frown on the fist fighter's forehead.

Though nobody saw him Sabin cracked his knuckles, eyes narrowing in a threatening scowl.

'You better value Terra to the full extent, bro, or I swear I'll wring your overly noble neck.'

His expression softened, and the scowl transformed into a smile so quickly that any spectator might have suspected possession.

'Just a friend, you said? Think I'll make a bet with Locke on how long that'll remain, Terra…'

But just as quickly he sobered, and shook his head.

'No, we're fighting a war. I hope they can keep their heads cool until Gestahl is dead, at least.'

Done with the inner debate, he headed for the sparsely equipped washing rooms to get rid of the sweat. Hopefully his ration of water would be enough to get properly clean this time.

'-'

Edgar looked up from his "reading" as he heard the door open. In reality, he had been zoning out while trying to get something done. The report felt neglected, but had no way of voicing its protests.

"Hm?" he said.

A guard marched in, followed by Locke. The treasure hunter looked a little pale, but he smiled upon meeting Edgar's gaze. As soon as the king had dismissed the soldier and the two men were alone, Locke reached out and smacked his hand down on Edgar's shoulder. The king almost jumped, blinking at his old friend in confusion.

"You righteous old idiot," Locke kindly said.

Edgar blinked again, but a moment later he bowed his head in a futile attempt to hide his chuckles.

"I could have you beheaded for that, Cole," he said.

"Nope, not in these days," Locke said with a grin, "you need every last man you've got."

The chuckles ceased immediately. Edgar straightened up, silently studying Locke's features, where remnants of the fatigue from the last couple of days still remained. With perfectly controlled facial muscles, the treasure hunter stepped back and performed an exaggerated bow which included violent sweeps of both his arms.

"And that of course includes yourself, Your Majesty," he announced.

Silence.

Rather surprised, Locke looked up.

For the first time he regretted being the one sent inside to fetch Edgar, because that smile was too beautiful to be watched by only one of the king's friends.

The only thing to ever match that must have been the look on his face when they made it to Figaro castle after escaping from Vector.

"Don't look at me like that, you're gonna make me blush," Locke said with a grin and straightened up, "Terra did all the talking. They just pushed me in here instead of her because we didn't dare to risk you glomping her."

"Show some trust in your king, soldier!"

With a hearty laughter, Edgar stood up and passed Locke with a few quick strides. He was by the door in seconds, and opened it only to be met with an ocean of friendly smiles. For a moment he only watched them, whereupon he shook his head with another laugh.

"I might be stupid," he said, "but you can't blame me for feeling run over."

"What the heck are you so submissive for?" Strago said, crossing his arms, "you're the boss."

"Right, right…"

Edgar had long since turned away from the old man and now watched Terra. She looked back, smiling.

"Pardon me," Edgar said.

Before she could recoil, Terra found herself scrunched into a bear hug. She nearly yelped at first, but the look on Edgar's face just before his shoulder filled her vision was enough for her to forgive. With a helpless chuckle she raised her head, only to find nothing but amused looks from her other friends. Sparks of red tinted her cheek within a heartbeat, but she could not stop smiling. It helped when Celes too began to chuckle softly, closely followed by Relm and Mog.

Sabin poked Locke with his elbow.

"See?" the prince said, "I told you it was a good idea to send somebody else than her inside."

"Depends on how you look at it," the treasure hunter replied.

His grind widened marginally as that comment deepened Terra's blush. But Edgar heard what he said as well, and let go of her.

Only by summoning all of his self-control could the king keep from commenting on how cute the red cheeks made Terra look. He felt no desire to risk any drop of her respect in him, especially not right then.

"So…" Setzer said, "shall we go play a game of 'Crush the Chancellor's hopes of keeping the king off the board'?"

The way he absentmindedly played with a deck of cards was almost disturbing, considering what he said and what he could use those very cards for.

Edgar turned around, raising an eyebrow.

"What, you didn't speak with him too?" he asked.

Only headshakes answered him. Edgar's lips twitched. The poor man…

"Well then," the king declared, "to the council room."

"Yessir!" Locke shouted, making a jocular salute.

This coaxed almost everyone to imitate the treasure hunter, apart from Cyan who instead rammed his fist into his own chest in a far more dignified proof of loyalty.

They let Edgar lead the way through the palace, just as it should be.

Unseen, unheard and unnoticed, Siren chewed on a thumbnail.


	35. A friend of our enemy in our lines

Chapter 35, Council

The Chancellor of Figaro castle was not happy. To him it felt like all the people and moogle around the table would listen politely to what he had to say, and then _still_ go on their merry way without a second thought. And he could miserably conclude with all logic vested in him, that that feeling spoke true.

He had to admit though, the king's enthusiasm and vigor had only seemed to decline in the last few weeks. But if the choice stood between a very possible death at Gestahl or Kefka's hands on the battlefield, and a non too plausible declining in safety… no, His Majesty Edgar was far too strong to just wilt away.

"I beg you to reconsider, Your Majesty," the Chancellor said in a desperate attempt to halt the evolution, "the grief of loosing you to the empire greatly crippled the trust in our own ability to win…"

"But I was saved, and the fighting spirit recovered," Edgar said, calmly.

He turned his head, looking over the rest of the room.

"I fully trust in my friends and soldiers' capability to protect me should the need arise. We have more magic and powerful warriors now. More importantly, they must be able to trust in _my_ capability to protect _them_ as well."

"Your Majesty…"

"What really scares me right now," Edgar interrupted, "is the notion that without me safe and sound, our cause is lost."

Terra silently nodded as she heard the same argument that had helped smacking her into realization. By the sound of it, Edgar had thought long and hard about that one.

The Chancellor opened his mouth, paused, and shook his head.

"I knew this was a lost discussion from the start," he muttered, looking at Edgar, "I am in minority, but I beg of you to reconsider, Your Majesty."

"That is not possible, I'm afraid."

Edgar smiled.

"I promise to be careful, however," he said.

Sighing, the Chancellor rubbed his temples. There was a headache in there, slowly crawling closer.

"Then I cannot hinder you further, Your Majesty," he said.

"Thank you."

Edgar turned to the rest of the room again.

"Well then, it's decided," he said, "I'll come along on the hunting trip planned for tomorrow."

He had to chuckle at the whistles and claps. These people were midgets before the might of the empire, but with combined forces from all rebels assembled and out there in the enslaved world, they still stood a chance. And he would finally be allowed to be one of them again.

"According to the evaluation of the new recruits from Maranda," the Chancellor tiredly began, "we're going to need a good deal of new game. The minimum this mission can bring us…"

'Ah… excuse me…'

Terra blinked at the whisper in her mind.

'Siren!'

She could feel the esper recoil, just at the outer border of her mind.

'No wait!' Terra quickly thought, 'you just surprised me. What is it?'

'You're really not mad?'

Siren's voice shrunk for every word. The direct question forced Terra to pause, for the situation with this mind esper had caused her nothing but confusion since she learnt of it. In fact, she had attempted not to think of it at all.

'Surprised,' she finally repeated, 'I don't know what to make of it.'

'I understand. I'm sorry.'

'I don't blame you…'

Terra hesitated again, frowning.

'Is… he listening?'

Siren gritted her teeth.

'I can't be sure, but he might be. That's why I'm whispering,' she said.

'Oh.'

Maduin's rumbling voice suddenly broke into the conversation.

'Siren, you're not scared to come inside, are you?' he asked with concern.

'I…'

She fell silent, shaking her head.

'Nobody believes that you'd have anything to do with him without a very, very good reason,' Maduin said.

Siren sighed.

'Yes, either this or I'm stuck here together with Gogo until Kerr gets bored enough to kill us both,' she muttered.

'That's what I thought.'

Maduin managed a smile, trying to hold up an encouraging look despite the risk of being watched by one of the men he hated most in the world. Siren tried to return the friendly gesture, but failed even worse.

'Gogo have asked Kerr to behave, but I don't know if he'll comply,' she said, 'despite that, we need to talk with the Returners. Gogo has a plan to get him and me out of here. We want to help you fight again.'

She was proud of herself for not hesitating when saying "plan" instead of "utterly insane suggestion". The fact that she had gotten herself talked into this madness still baffled her.

'What about Kerr, will you fight against him too?' Terra asked.

'Gogo is unwilling to do so, but I would not hesitate to,' Siren grimly said.

She threw a warning glance backwards, and Terra could swear that she felt an amused smirk from the other end of the world. Considering the circumstances she could not bat it off as her imagination either, even if she wanted to.

The half-esper bit her lower lip to collect herself. The risk of Kerr speaking to all of them just to amuse himself was high, but if Gogo and Siren could somehow safely return to the Returners' lines it was a threat worth facing. Not like he could do much more than get on their nerves on this distance, anyway. Probably.

'Right?' she thought, presenting the worry running through her mind.

'Of course not,' Siren said, 'I understand your worry, but I assure you that even if I was completely desperate I wouldn't do this if it was dangerous to any of you.'

She held her breath, waiting for Kerr to let everyone know that she_ was _completely desperate. But there was only silence. He must not have heard it.

'You can trust Siren, Terra,' Maduin approved, 'I would know if this was a trick. Mind espers are too complex to be recreated or controlled by an outer force without it being apparent.'

Siren gratefully looked at him, but couldn't help but think to herself:

'I wonder about that, when it comes to Gogo…'

During all this, the rest of the world went on as it had planned to.

"… As with last time, we're counting on you to track down something for us to hunt, Gau," Edgar concluded.

It was hard not to grin widely when the boy beamed with pride.

"Yeah, Egaar!" he said, scratching the table with his nails.

A glance from Sabin made him cease the clawing, but he still smiled from ear to ear.

"That should be all…" Edgar began.

"Wait…" Terra said.

"Yes?"

She found herself in the center of everyone's attention and nervously reached up to scratch her hair. This would be… tough.

"Um… well, there's something that I… we who went on the mission to Maranda need to tell the rest of you," she said.

There was no need to look up to notice how those involved stiffened. Terra realized that she had indeed not been the only one too tired and distracted to share the crazy news yet.

Wonderful.

Terra glanced around in an attempt to get approval from the other witnesses from the Falcon, but they all seemed to have become very interested in the table. Or the idea that staring hard enough at it would make it catch fire.

In defeat, the half-esper cleared her throat.

"As we loaded the freed men on the Falcon," she began, "Siren spoke to my mind to warn us about Vector approaching."

She paused to let that sink in for a moment.

"Wait, _what_?" Strago said, proving to be the quickest to catch on – probably much to Relm's chagrin.

Terra avoided the baffled gazes and continued.

"According to her Gogo is still alive, as well," she said.

Nobody said anything. Not even the Chancellor, since he had learnt about the events in Vector and thus was as stunned as all those who were there during the breakout.

"I have no idea what this means, even if we were told the whole story," Terra continued, shaking her head.

Inside of the woman's mind, Siren took in a deep, mental breath and looked over her shoulder.

'Let me speak with them now, Kerr,' she said.

'Be my guest.'

Siren braced herself, but it helped very little. With a half strangled shriek she tumbled out of Terra's head and onto the floor between the chairs.

"Ouff!"

It did not actually hurt, for she sank straight into the floor before getting her bearings straight. The cry escaped her only because of the sudden movement.

Few of those who had not expected this were unable to keep from breathing in sharply in surprise.

Without thinking, Terra swept her hand down to help Siren. But the half esper's fingers passed straight through the blonde's arm. Despite this, Siren threw a grateful glance at Terra as she got to her transparent feet, for the thought if nothing else.

The esper straightened up and looked around the table, clenching her teeth at the disbelieving stares. She cleared her throat, pressing the harp to her chest.

"Hello, everyone," she started, "I'm sorry about shocking you like this."

Relm managed to react first this time, slamming her hands into the table and shooting up from her chair.

"What's this about Gogo not being pasted onto the wall?" she demanded.

"That-" Siren started.

"And you should be grinded into dust or in the esper facility by now! What the hell is going on?"

"Uh…"

An awkward silence fell over the room as Siren struggled to get her mental balance back. That had not exactly been what she expected to hear. On the other hand, she had not been sure what to expect at all.

"You know what, Relm, you really scare me sometimes," Setzer said in an attempt to break the ice, "I think all of us should be happy that you're on our side."

"But they stayed around with Kerr!" the girl protested, waving her arms so wildly that she nearly poked Strago in the eye.

"If you'll just allow me, I can show you what has happened!" Siren said.

She had to raise her voice in order to be heard above the bickering between the grandfather and granddaughter. They fell silent upon her call, returning to studying her with vague suspicion.

"What do you mean, show us?" Sabin asked, his eyes thinning.

Siren glanced at Terra in a silent plea for support. The young woman nodded, turning to the rest of the assembly.

"Siren did the same to us on the Falcon," she said, "she simply intends to show you her memories. It's not dangerous."

It was no coincidence that she looked at Edgar towards the end of her explanation, and everybody knew it. The king crossed his arms and met Siren's gaze.

"Very well then, since Terra says so," he said.

The words and the remains of distrust in them were painful, even if Siren had been prepared for them. But she forced herself to swallow the bitterness, to keep it out of her voice as she spoke.

"This will only take a moment, but you might feel a little dizzy," she said.

'Now, Kerr,' she sent out with her mind.

'Oh, with pleasure.'

'Take it eas-'

"Ugh!"

The shove of magic force ramming into Siren brought the protest to a rough end. She had no choice but to release the power before it became unbearable.

The sound of the harp drifted into the air. Several of the yet uninformed Returners recoiled on their seats as the magical ribbons flowed out of her head, and regarded the approaching memories with more alarm than suspicion.

"Really," Terra said, attempting to offer help again, "it's not dangerous at all."

"She's right," Celes said, finally breaking her grim silence.

The half-esper cast a grateful look at her friend, who attempted to smile a little in return. The blonde's remaining reservation could be read all too well in her features, however.

Meanwhile, Siren carefully guided the glowing tendrils towards the six people who had not yet gotten the whole, twisted story, including the Chancellor. Every single one of them flinched, but as soon as the magic touched their heads, their eyes opened wide to stare at nothing. Flashes of disbelief and anger crossed their faces as they watched the events being played in new minds.

Siren added nothing more to what she had shown those who were on the Falcon, purposefully leaving out last night's planning in Kerr's room. As she pulled back, the sound of groans and hands meeting foreheads filled the air for a short while. She waited for the Returners to regain their orientation before she spoke again.

"A little while ago, Gogo presented a plan for escaping from Vector," she said, "that is why I am here now, to let you know about it. We want to help you fight again."

A shaking fist slammed into the table.

"Such is thy claim, but how dost we know this be not treachery?" Cyan demanded.

Siren waved her free hand, trying to calm him with the simple motion. It had little effect, as expected.

"I understand your anger," she said, "but both Gogo and I are sincere…"

"He is of the same blood as Kefka! They bear the same face!"

"Cyan, please…" Terra said, trying to calm the furious warrior, "you're being unreasonable…"

That only served to turn his disbelief towards her.

"Thou hast suffered greatly because of him as well, miss Terra!"

"Not because of Gogo…"

"I know Gogo," Shadow said, "he is nothing like his brother."

The ninja sounded as calm as ever, of course. It was quite unsettling.

"This is screwed up!" Relm exclaimed.

She crossed her arms and glared at Cyan.

"Still, didn't you go nuts because Celes joined the fighting, too? Gogo is a pro-weirdo, but he's not a bad guy."

Sabin stood up, breaking through the bickering that was about to explode between Cyan and Relm.

"I'm with Cyan!" the prince sharply said.

Satisfied with this catching everyone's attention, he continued in a calmer voice:

"I don't want anything related to Kefka on our side. How do we know that we can trust him?"

"You trust Celes, don't you?" Locke said.

As the others looked at him, he resolutely shook his head.

"Don't get me wrong," he said, "I don't want a Kefka-look-alike on our team. But you are being a pair of hypocrites."

"No. I don't want that person here either."

Locke turned to Celes, frowning. She had crossed her arms and pressed them tightly against her chest, refusing to look at anything but the table.

"It would be best for himself," she said, "because I would constantly have to restrain myself from stabbing him in the chest."

"Gogo helped us free you and the others from Vector," Shadow said, "without him we would have had to fight Kerr, in grim circumstances."

The argument ceased for a moment as the image of a half-dead Edgar in a furious Kerr's grip crept into the Returners' minds. The train of thought was not a pleasant one.

Finally, Mog broke the ice by placing his furry little paws on the table and asking a practical question.

"How did you guys manage to work with the weirdo back then, kupo?"

Terra took the chance and stood up to get the attention.

"It was a strain at first," she said, "I felt very uncomfortable around him, though I tried to hide it. However, Gogo is so completely different from his brother, and the mask he wears helps too. Soon enough, you forget what he looks like beneath it."

"True," Strago thoughtfully said, "the urge to cave his head in for good measure kinda went away after studying his meekness for a while."

"Really!" Relm said, "haven't you people learnt that you shouldn't judge people by the way they look? We've got a _teddy bear_ on our team, and we expect him to fight as good as the rest of us!"

"_Kupo_!"

"And an obnoxious child who should have her mouth washed with soap, too," Strago murmured.

"I heard that!"

Terra forced down the urge to chuckle, and turned her head.

"What do you think, Edgar?" she asked.

All eyes turned to the king. He leant forwards, resting his chin on a platform weaved by his fingers. The frown on his forehead seemed to have been there for a while, and appeared determined to remain where it was.

The silence stretched once more. Finally, Setzer cleared his throat.

"If you don't mind my opinion," he said with the shadow of a smile, "I have to admit that I'm quite intrigued by this man who can keep Kefka from killing him, with words alone. And didn't we say that we need every last fighter we can get?"

"True…"

Finally Edgar straightened up, but his expression gave no hint of his emotions. Even Sabin had to admit that he could not recall seeing his brother so stony-faced before.

"We do need any help there is," he said, "and definitely every single piece of magicite we can salvage. I don't like this at all, but if not for this Gogo, then at least for Siren."

He looked at the silent esper.

"But, we cannot come and save you," he said.

"We know that," she said.

"How are you planning on getting out, then?"

Siren managed to suppress a cringe.

"It's all Gogo's idea, and quite a crazy one, too. They'll…"

She briefly explained the plan.

After finishing her task, blank stares were her reward.

Relm, once again, managed to be the first one to comment.

"Uhhh…?" she said in disbelief.

"That's suicide!" Terra exclaimed.

"Trust me, I've tried to talk them out of it," Siren said, sighing, "but once Gogo managed to get Kerr interested…"

Sabin threw both hands into the air.

"See? He's mad too. It's official!" he said.

"Do you have any better ideas?" Siren asked.

She did not ask this with sarcasm. It was a plea, nothing else.

But the bodybuilder lowered his hands, never taking his gaze off her. The frustration in his eyes melted away as he studied her haggard expression.

"No," he finally said in a soft voice.

The esper sighed.

"So, that's how it is," she said.

She attempted to get a grip of herself, and straightened up.

"Well then," she continued, "if we do make it out, where shall we try to go to meet you?"

"We cannot risk setting up a meeting point," Edgar said, "you have to understand that."

Siren nodded.

"Yes, I do. The problem is that Gogo isn't as powerful as Kerr, so it might be hard for him to send this mental link of me all the way to Terra, depending on where we are. That's why we need some kind of guidance."

"Even if you have, will you make it there?"

Edgar paused and glanced at Gau. The boy, who had been sitting in confused silence about all the bickering almost shot up from his seat, eager to help. The king's lips twitched, and he turned back to Siren.

"Try to make it to the Veldt," he said, "we go there occasionally to hunt, and Gau should be able to find you there with his… connections."

"Very well," Siren said, "we'll try to escape this evening."

She managed to smile, and bowed her head.

"Thank you, everyone. I hope to see you soon."

With those words, she began to fade away.

"Godspeed," Terra said, mustering up what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

Siren's grateful expression was the last thing they saw of her before she disappeared completely.

For a moment, nobody said anything.

"They are so dead," Relm finally concluded.

"Look at it from the bright side," Locke said, massaging his temples, "they'll probably take Kefka down with them."

'-'

Siren flowed into her magicite and sprung out to check on the brothers. Kerr's lack of intrusion confused her.

She found that Gogo was sitting beside his brother on the sofa, holding Kerr's collar in a tight grip.

Ah.

"There, everything done," the older brother said and lowered the green rock onto the table, "now let go before I fry you, midget."

Gogo carefully released the handfuls of cloth, watching the other man for any hints of incoming attacks.

"Thank you for behaving," he eventually said.

"Don't count on me keeping that up. I had plans too, you know. Bore."

He stood up with a smirk.

"Oh well. Let's prepare for tonight's show, then. I'm getting fed up with the peacefulness around here."

'You are going to keep behaving, right?' Siren said.

She knew it was a stupid question. They knew it was a stupid question. But it had to be said or she would never be able to focus on what she needed to do.

"Of course not, idiot!" Kerr merrily said as he pranced towards the other end of the room.

'I know.'

Siren sighed.

Kerr, meanwhile, dug out a pile of paper and a bottle of ink from the depths of the wardrobe.

"What are you doing?" Gogo asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Let's just call it a goodbye present that Gestahl gets to pay."

The lord sat down again, and produced a pen from some hidden pocket in his robe. It was the first time that Siren ever had seen that atrocity of a dressing code used for something practical like storing things. She had to admit that she was impressed.

Kerr ripped a scroll from the pile of papers and books already lying on the table, and opened it.

"Hold this for me," he said.

Still confused, Gogo reached forwards and placed his hands on the edges of the paper to keep it from rolling back.

The text on the open scroll was not written by Kerr.

Gogo raised his eyebrows as he watched his brother starting to copy the text from the scroll onto the empty paper before him.

"Uh…" the mimic began, "weren't you worried about getting caught?"

"Yeees?"

"You're signing a death warrant for that possibility, you know."

"What, are you backing out? Too late for that, little one."

Siren floated down to see what they were talking about. After a brief time of studies, she looked at Gogo.

'Did you hit him over the head while I was gone?' she asked.

"I must have done _something_, I just don't know what…"

Kerr just smirked, a manic glint in his eye. He was having fun.

Oh dear. Oh dear.

'-'

Evening fell over the floating palace, and the air forces buzzing around it began to return to the hangars.

A peaceful, simple evening.

Until a wall in the southwestern wing exploded. A few soldiers happened to be in the same corridor, and dazed with the shock they began hurrying towards the sudden collection of rubble.

From the smoke and dust dashed a figure dressed in yellow robes. At first, the soldiers thought that it was lord Kefka, but the helmet with its huge feathers and the veil soon taught them different. And so did the appearance of lord Kefka from the very same smoke and dust.

The strange, veiled figure rushed into the confused soldiers and broke through with brute force. The one who managed to remain standing had to press himself to the wall by own force as a magical lightning bolt zapped through the air and plucked one of the feather's from the stranger's helmet. This only increased his speed.

"Come back here, you weakling!" lord Kefka screeched, "it'll only hurt for a couple of seconds!"

But the escapee, surprisingly enough, did not stop.


	36. Blowing the popsicle stand

Author's note: _Okay, okay, okay, you talked me into continuing it. -laughs- The sudden influx of reviews has been rather surprising though. Is it because of KH2?_

_Anyway, sorry it's been so long. What, one and a half year? Err… well, all I can say is "uhm… sorry?" _

Chapter 36, You'll never catch me alive

Being the tyrant of the world is a good job, if you are a power-hungry son of a bitch. But even if you are such a person – which I hope _you_ are not, gentle reader – you get tired. And sleep is a great reenergizer, used to make sure that tomorrow you will be able to get up and terrorize your lower subjects once again.

Gestahl had been planning to head to bed and get a good night's rest, when one of the voices he least enjoyed listening to caused the windows in his chamber to jingle.

"_Attention, everyone! There's an escaped prisoner on the run in here! He's all mine, so don't get in my way!"_

"What the hell?"

Gestahl threw all other plans into oblivion and dashed out of his chambers, casting a spell of speed over himself as he moved. Soldiers and magicians alike desperately flung themselves out of the way for their emperor. To him, they became only lumps of blurred colors as he rushed forwards, long beard and mustache flapping at the air behind him.

"_Kefka!"_ he roared, just like Kefka projecting his words with magic to make sure that the madman heard him, wherever he was.

"_I'll take care of it, emperor!" _

The irritated tone could not be mistaken, and to top it off the words had been projected all over Vector. Gestahl bared his teeth. Kefka was threading a thin line, defying the emperor in front of the whole capital.

"_Only until I get there!"_

The reply was delayed for a few seconds. The people in the flying city held their breath – at least, those who were not diving for cover did. But finally:

"_As you wish, emperor."_

The frustration was still heavily obvious, but it had been chained down. While still seething with anger, Gestahl had to admit that it was more than he could have hoped for. To everyone listening, it was an ultimate proof of control that Kefka took a step back from his superior.

Perfect, actually.

But the feeling of satisfaction had no place in the emperor's current state of mind.

"_Good. Now where is he headed?"_ he demanded.

Kefka only remained silent for a moment this time. Still, it was enough to prove that he was still reluctant. But just when Gestahl was about to repeat his order in an even sharper tone, the answer arrived.

"_In the southern main corridor, heading east- no, now he took to the right- no, left. Stop changing directions, you chicken lip!"_

Gestahl fought down the urge to slap his own forehead. The information given to him also reached the hunted one, of course.

"_Just shut up, I'm on my way!" _he snarled.

"_Yes emp- hey! Whoever kills that one will get it!"_

In the southern corridor, the magicians who had begun to charge a spell at the fleeing mimic staggered backwards in fear of lord Kefka. Gogo rushed on, ignoring the neutralized threat. Pain racked his chest for every heavy breath, and though the goal almost could be seen by now it still seemed too far away. The knowledge that Gestahl was on his way helped fuel his aching legs, however.

'He's asking if you're giving up already,' Siren whispered to his mind.

'How thoughtful!' the mimic snarled.

He dived into a side corridor to the right. Cold air flowed into his face, cooling the sweat seeped up by the veil and robes. Almost there, almost there…

'It's your own fault, he also says,' the esper added.

Her tone of voice hinted at that she might not be completely opposed to that opinion.

'Thanks for the support, both of you,' the mimic replied, growling under his breath.

'You're welcome. Duck to the right!'

Gogo obeyed without thinking, and narrowly avoided getting his arm singed by another lightning bolt.

"Stop hopping around!" his brother shouted, adding a mad cackle to the order.

'I knew he'd like this far too much!' the mimic grumbled to himself.

The end of the corridor came closer and closer. Three guards standing by the iron gate in the far off wall stared at the approaching man hunt with growing panic, trying to figure out what they should do about it.

Gogo solved the problem for them.

"Guardians of roaring flames, heed my words!"

Without slowing down for a second, he threw up both hands as he spluttered the spell. A large fireball shot forwards from his palms and exploded upon hitting the large gate a second later. The guards crashed into the floor and walls on the sides.

'He says "not too bad, considering all",' Siren said.

'Much better.'

Wind roared from the newly created opening in the gate, helping to cool the red hot edges around the hole. Despite this, the heat was almost inhuman as Gogo dashed forwards and through it. He came out gasping for air, sweat making the rapidly soaking veil cling uncomfortably to his face.

The hangar spread out before him, half filled with newly returned spitfires and sky armors, with more of them coming in from the distant air gate. All soldiers of the Imperial Air Force in sight stared in surprise at the newly created hole in the wall and the strange figure emerging from it. A few of the closest ones began reaching for their weapons, but froze as their lord Kefka flew through the very same hole in the gate.

"_He's mine, boys!"_

'Duck!' Siren warned.

Gogo flung himself down, a lightning bolt searing past above him and hitting a sky armor further away. The machine violently rocked and the pilot leaped out of it in panic, but by the time of impact the magic had lost enough force to only leave a big mark on the iron. Better than making the whole machine explode, at least.

'This time, _he_ better watch out!' Gogo thought to Siren as he rolled back to his feet.

Leaping forwards, he blindly sent a smaller fireball over his shoulder.

"How _dare_ you counter?" his brother screeched, "you little…"

'Not even a scratch,' Siren reported.

Gogo was about to reply, but he never got the time. Another voice ripped through the air, through the roaring of wind and engines.

"Kefka!"

Three shockingly different minds joined in a rare instance of complete agreement.

'Oh shit…'

A reddish blur shot through the hole and skidded to a halt beside the frozen pursuer. The magical glow of the haste spell faded quickly from Gestahl as he raised his hands with an enraged scowl on his face.

"No!"

Snarling, the madman spun around and threw up his arm before the ruler's hands.

"Get out of the way or I'll blast your shoulder off, too!" Gestahl growled.

"Just let me kill him, emperor, that's all I ask!"

The emperor's eyes narrowed further, but behind the defiance in the lunatic's eyes were only a manic desire to have his wish granted.

Meanwhile, Gogo finally reached the first line of machines and leapt onto the nearest one, which happened to be a spitfire. The pilot raised his firearm, but before he had managed to finish the movement he received a fist straight in the face and toppled backwards, out of the seat and onto the floor.

Snarling, Gestahl threw his right arm around. A dark net exploded from the palm and soared straight towards the escapee.

Gogo did not even think. He simply swung out his own arm in an exact copy of Gestahl's motion, and a second net met the first in midair. The difference in power became apparent when the counterattack only managed to throw the first net off course, not stop it completely. But it was enough to keep it from reaching its goal, and as the sticky heap of magical ropes crashed on the floor, Gogo turned the engine key.

"What the hell?" Gestahl croaked, fury and shock mixing in his voice.

But his strongest – if least controllable – pawn rushed forwards, as the hijacked spitfire rose from the ground and turned towards the exit.

"Oh no you don't!"

The still incoming choppers desperately reared aside to avoid the one going in the other direction at top speed, and thanks to that Gogo did not have to worry too much about a collision. His brother was another matter.

A couple of lightning bolts hit their target, nearly sending the machine toppling over itself. Only by violently tearing at the wheel to meet the forced momentum did Gogo manage to maintain balance.

'I'll get him for that!'

'Yes, but it has to look real, you know!' Siren said.

Her voice did not sound too steady, however.

'Tell him to watch out again!' Gogo snarled.

He turned around halfway, one hand on the wheel and the other lashing out at his brother. Screeching in rage, the pursuer dived aside to avoid another fireball. When he got back to his feet, empty air had already replaced the ground beneath the escapee's vehicle.

Gogo turned the wheel, and the spitfire disappeared beneath the border of the open air gate.

"_NO_!"

Furiously, the madman spun towards the nearest group of arriving fliers. The pilots saluted in pure panic.

"After him!"

The roar was loud enough to be perfectly heard above the humming engines.

"Yes, lord Kefka!" a choir of frightened voices hastened to call.

They all could picture what would happen to anyone wasting a single second when the nutcase spluttered and violently gesticulated like that. Choppers turned around and soared back towards the exit.

"If you don't bring him back I'll grind your bones to powder and feed the remains to the chocobos!"

'And if you do bring him back, you'll wish that you were never born!' he thought to himself, growling.

Damned if you do, damned if you don't. Poor lads, really.

"Kefka!"

"_What_?"

He spun around with a snarl on his face, only to draw back and raise an arm to hide the grimace as he found himself glaring murder at Gestahl. The look he received in return was by no extent any kinder.

"Explain yourself!" the emperor snarled.

He pointed at the chaotic heap of nets on the floor.

"And how could he use the same kind of magic as me?" he added, deepening the scowl that already seemed far too well chiseled into his forehead.

"Hell if I know!"

The madman threw his arms up in frustration.

"I was going to kill him, but he sent the spell right back at me!" he said.

Gestahl crossed his arms, glaring at the nets.

"A reflect spell?" he muttered through his teeth.

"There was no time for him to cast it!"

Irritated, the emperor waved at his pawn to shut up. He raised his hands, and the nets obediently floated upwards. They remained tangled until Gestahl swept both arms in a direction each. Following his movements, the snake nest of magical ropes ripped themselves free and with a quite unpleasant, soft sound they crashed on the floor in two heaps.

The soldiers nervously watched as their lord Kefka alternated between glaring at the emperor's back and throwing glances promising doom towards the air gate. The ground could be seen through the opening now, as the floating continent lowered itself in reply to the harsh winds flowing inside.

Muttering under his breath, Gestahl snapped his fingers on both hands. A dark blue shimmer swept over the fallen nets. He paused for a moment, then repeated the same procedure.

Muttering bewildered curses, the emperor finally turned around and faced the watching madman. The blonde cocked an eyebrow, despite the remaining rage etched into his features.

"What?" he said again, much calmer than last time.

"It seems that the net he created is a perfect copy of mine," Gestahl said, crossing his arms, "it is weaker, but apart from that they are identical. What the hell is this technique?"

"Damned if I know!"

He turned towards the air gate once more, a snarl completely disrupting his face.

But on the inside, he grinned like a maniac.

'-'

In the vast expanse of sky outside the floating palace, the hunt was on. While Gogo had managed to get a good head start, but there was one problem. Spit fires, being the brute force of the air army, was not designed to move as quick as sky armors. And out of the half dozen choppers sent after the escapee, four were of the quicker model.

'They are closing in!' Siren warned, keeping watch while Gogo focused on trying to figure out all of the controls before him.

'Not too surprising,' the mimic absentmindedly replied.

'Where are your priorities?'

'Do you want to crash?'

'No, but the result will be the same if we are shot down!'

'I doubt they dare to try that after all his screaming back there.'

Gogo studied the command board during all of this mental talking. He was somewhat familiar with the controls, after all he had been part of designing the original versions – twenty years ago. Luckily, things seemed to keep the same basics – thank you, Cid! – as the prototypes, and he did not have too much of a problem. But steering the machine and attacking the pursuers at the same time would be tricky.

'If you don't do something soon we will find out whether or not they dare to shoot,' Siren snapped.

Gogo threw a glance over his shoulder, also noting how much the distance had decreased. He placed one hand on the steering wheel, growling under his breath.

"Hmph… upon the power in me I command thee, Ramuh, to strike down my foes!"

He swept his hand out in a wide motion, and from his fingertips exploded thick snakes of lightning bolts. They flared across the sky, and though the soldiers desperately tried to send their choppers out of the way there was no time. Two of them exploded, debris and pilots plummeting towards the ground far, far below. Only one parachute bobbed up against the distant green and blue.

The other choppers, while managing to avoid head-on hits, were left smoking and jerking dangerously. The pursuit was off – the men had enough trouble just trying to stay airborne.

Satisfied, Gogo turned back to the steering. Vector should be far enough off to be out of a spell's range, but he didn't want to take chances. Turning the wheel rather violently, he sent the spit fire plunging downwards.

He only stopped the fall when Siren made a nervous sound.

They sped eastwards, a tiny dot in the sky between the earth and heaven. Still, Vector remained a hulking giant in the background. Gogo glanced over his shoulder several times, hands tight on the steering wheel. There were small dots flitting about the huge shadow.

"We may have to land," he muttered through his teeth after a while.

'Do you think that's safer?' Siren asked, doubtful.

'No,' Gogo thought.

He reached out and tapped a glass bulb on the control panel.

'But we're almost out of power. This thing wasn't refueled before we took it.'

Below the glass, a red arrow tiredly hovered dangerously close to a tiny little zero.

Siren said something very unladylike. That was enough to make Gogo smirk beneath his veil. His eyes scanned the trembling arrow, an eyebrow slowly going up.

It did not take long for his gaze to lock on to a metal square to the left of the power meter. It wasn't much bigger than his hand and was held shut by a clasp, but the tiny hinges on the side signaled that it could easily be opened.

He found it absolutely fascinating.

With a crisp metal snap, he flipped the clasp and lid open. Beneath was an oval metal plate, slightly rounded inwards. Along its side hung spindly, silvery hooks, dangling deceptively loose above the crawling wires beneath.

'Found a power source,' Gogo thought, reaching into a chest pocket.

'What- hey!' Siren protested.

The red flame within her magicite flickered furiously, but Gogo pushed the magic rock into the small plate. The hooks snapped into place to hold the esper's remains still.

Deaf to the protests Gogo closed the lid and watched, with satisfaction, how the red arrow shot back to its highest peak.

'Desperate situations and all that…' he commented, shrugging.

'… you bastard,' Siren said.

'Duly noted.'

The mimic looked up, scanning the world below. A look over his shoulder confirmed that they were getting further away from Vector at a much quicker pace now.

'Now where's that Veldt…'


End file.
